MOD 


•ILL 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


r 


MODERN   AMERICAN 
ORATORY 

SEVEN  REPRESENTATIVE  ORATIONS 


EDITED  WITH   NOTES  AND  AN  FSSAY  ON 
THE   THEORY    OF   ORATORY 

BY 

RALPH  CURTIS  RINGWALT 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY   HOLT  AND  COMPANY 
1906 


COPYRIGHT,  1898, 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  &  CO. 


THE  MERSHON  COMPANY  PRESS, 
RAHWAY,  p.  J. 


College 
Library 


PREFACE. 

THE  purpose  of  this  volume  is  to  present  concisely 
the  general  principles  underlying  the  theory  of  ora- 
tory, and  to  illustrate  these  principles  by  orations 
drawn  from  the  work  of  the  most  prominent  public 
speakers  in  the  United  States  in  the  past  thirty  years. 

In  choosing  the  orations  a  threefold  object  has  been 
kept  in  view.  The  aim  has  been  to  select:  (i)  such 
speeches  as  were  interesting,  valuable,  and  notable 
productions  in  themselves;  (2)  those  which  were  typi- 
cal of  the  kind  of  oratory  they  are  intended  to  repre- 
sent; and  (3)  those  which  were  representative  of  the 
best  work  of  the  men  who  delivered  them.  Each 
oration  is  printed  without  any  abridgment. 

The  book  is  intended  to  serve  as  a  manual  for  stu- 
dents of  oratory,  and  to  furnish  precept  and  illustra- 
tive matter  for  classes  in  argumentation  and  oral 
discussion. 

R.  C.  R. 
COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY,  May  4,  1898. 


1 1  GTv'46 


CONTENTS. 


THE  THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 
I. 

PAGE 

I.    WHAT  ORATORY  Is,  .                3 

II.    THE  DIVISIONS  OF  ORATORY 7 

III.  DELIBERATIVE  ORATORY, 9 

IV.  FORENSIC  ORATORY 16 

V.  DEMONSTRATIVE  ORATORY 24 

The  Eulogy 37 

The  Commemorative  Oration,   ....  30 

The  Platform  Oration 35 

The  After-dinner  Address,         ....  40 

VI.  PULPIT  ORATORY 43 

II. 

VII.    THE  DIVISIONS  or  THE  ORATION,    ....  53 

VIII.     INTRODUCTION, 55 

IX.     NARRATION 60 

X.     PARTITION 66 

XI.     DISCUSSION 75 

XII.     CONCLUSION, •        .        .  83 

XIII.    THE  PREPARATION  OF  SPEECHES 85 


VI  CONTENTS. 

ORATIONS. 

PAGE 

DELIBERATIVE  ORATORY. 

Carl  Schurz:  General  Amnesty 93 

FORENSIC  ORATORY. 

Jeremiah  S.  Black:  The  Right  to  Trial  by  Jury— 
Ex-Parte  Milligan .131 

DEMONSTRATIVE  ORATORY. 

The  Eulogy— Wendell  Phillips:  Daniel  O'Connell,   .     182 

The  Commemorative  Oration — Chauncey  M.  Depew: 
The  One  Hundredth  Anniversary  of  the  Inaugura- 
tion of  President  Washington,  ....  220 

The  Platform  Oration— George  William  Curtis:  The 
Leadership  of  Educated  Men,  ....  256 

The  After-dinner  Address — Henry  W.  Grady:  The 
New  South, 278 

PULPIT  ORATORY. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher:  The  Sepulcher  in  the  Garden,    292 

NOTES, 313 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  ORATORS  AND  ORATORY,        .       .       .331 


THE  THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 
I. 

I.   WHAT  ORATORY  IS. 

IF  we  turn  to  those  treatises  on  oratory  which  are 
most  useful  for  the  student  to-day, — the  works  of  Aris- 
totle, Cicero,  and  Quintilian,  among  the  ancients,  Dr. 
Blair  in  England,  and  John  Quincy  Adams  in  this 
country, — we  have  no  little  difficulty  in  finding  an  ap- 
propriate definition  with  which  to  begin  our  study. 
Aristotle  says  that  oratory  (or  rhetoric,  as  the  whole 
science  of  written  and  spoken  discourse  was  denomi- 
nated by  the  Greeks)  is  "  the  faculty  of  finding  all  the 
means  of  persuasion  on  any  subject."  Cicero,  who  is 
followed  by  Dr.  Blair,  defines  it  as  the  "  art  of  persua- 
sion"; while  Quintilian  and  John  Quincy  Adams 
agree  in  calling  it  the  "  art  of  speaking  well."  No 
one  of  these  definitions  is,  however,  wholly  apposite 
for  our  purposes  to-day.  That  of  Aristotle,  since  it 
has  to  do  with  but  one  branch  of  the  subject,  what  the 
rhetoricians  called  invention,  the  collection  of  argu- 
ments, may  be  rejected  at  once.  But  the  other  two, 
one  or  the  other  of  which  has  been  adopted  by  perhaps 
a  majority  of  writers,  call  for  more  comment. 

It  is,  indeed,  true  that  the  end  of  much  oratory  is 
persuasion.  This  is  the  object  of  nearly  all  speeches 


4  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

delivered  in  assemblies,  in  legislatures,  or  in  courts  of 
law,  where  the  purpose  of  the  speaker  is  to  persuade 
his  hearers  to  perform  a  certain  act,  to  vote  in 
a  certain  way,  or  to  render  a  certain  decision. 
But  it  is  likewise  true  that  there  is  a  very  large 
division  of  oratory  in  which  no  such  purpose 
can  be  discerned.  In  such  a  category  should  be 
placed  the  eulogies  spoken  after  the  deaths  of  great 
men;  the  orations  commemorating  the  anniversaries 
of  important  events;  addresses  delivered  at  the  dedica- 
tion of  monuments  and  buildings;  and,  finally,  the 
mass  of  after-dinner  speeches.  Rarely  in  any  of  these 
instances  is  the  object  of  the  speaker,  except  most  in- 
directly, that  of  persuasion;  and  thus  the  definition 
which  regards  all  oratory  as  the  art  of  persuasion, 
since  it  excludes  so  great  a  class,  is  inadequate.  For 
other  reasons,  the  remaining  definition  is  open  to 
quite  as  much  objection.  To  define  oratory  as  the  art 
of  speaking  well,  is,  in  the  first  place,  extremely  un- 
scientific, for  no  standards  are  given  upon  which  judg- 
ment may  be  based.  The  question  at  once  arises, 
what  are  the  criteria  of  good  speaking?  Further- 
more, the  definition  is  bad  because  it  fails  to  discrimi- 
nate between  such  speeches  as  all  would  agree  to  be  a 
part  of  oratory,  and  those  which,  however  clear  and 
logical  and  effective,  would  with  no  less  certainty  be 
denied  such  a  place.  To  put  the  point  differently,  the 
definition  does  not  distinguish  between  oratory  which 
admittedly  is  such,  and  public  speaking  in  general. 
This  is  a  distinction  which  is  fundamental. 

We  are  therefore  compelled  to  seek  a  definition  else- 
where. To  this  end  let  it  be  asked,  What  is  the  differ- 
ence between  a  speech  delivered  in  an  assembly,  out- 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  5 

lining  a  financial  scheme,  and  one  in  the  same  place 
advocating  war, or  the  annexation  of  territory;  between 
an  argument  spoken  before  a  single  judge  on  a  ques- 
tion of  jurisdiction,  and  one  before  a  jury  in  behalf  of 
a  man  indicted  for  murder?  The  answer  is,  of  course, 
superficially,  that  in  one  case  the  speech  is  cold  and 
rigid,  like  a  demonstration  in  mathematics;  in  the 
other  it  is  intense,  full  of  vigor  and  of  passion.  More 
accurately,  too,  is  it  not  that  one  speech  is  addressed 
to  reason  and  to  the  intellect,  while  the  other,  although 
it  may  touch  these  faculties  as  well,  appeals  primarily 
to  the  emotions?  And  herein  it  may  be  believed,  is  the 
distinguishing  characteristic  of  oratory;  that  which 
raises  it  above  and  divides  it  from  public  speaking  in 
general;  namely,  the  appeal  to  the  emotions.  No 
matter  how  clear,  logical,  or  effective,  speaking  may 
be,  so  long  as  it  appeals  to  the  intellect  only,  it  re- 
mains public  speaking;  when,  however,  the  emotions 
are  touched — love,  joy,  hate,  ambition,  revenge — then 
speaking  becomes  oratory.  Nothing,  moreover, — no 
phrase,  paragraph,  or  speech, — is  In  itself  eloquent;  it 
is  eloquent  only  as  it  affects  the  audience  to  which  it 
is  addressed.  In  the  present  writer's  opinion  these  are 
the  simplest  and  most  fundamental  ideas  that  can  be 
stated  in  regard  to  this  subject.  And  the  suggestion 
is  therefore  hazarded  that  oratory  may  be  defined,  not 
inadequately,  as  that  form  of  public  speaking  which 
appeals  powerfully  to  the  emotions  of  the  hearer. 

In  connection  with  this  definition,  one  or  two  sub- 
sidiary points  of  some  practical  value  may  be  noted. 
The  first  of  these  is  that  the  test  of  oratory,  since  it 
depends  entirely  on  the  effect  produced  in  the  minds 
of  the  audience,  is  a  quantity  of  exceeding  variable- 


6  THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY, 

ness  and  uncertainty.  Because  of  differences  in  taste, 
in  experience,  in  environment,  what  to  one  mind  is 
eloquent,  to  another  may  be  vapid,  or  possibly  unin- 
telligible. A  speech  reviewing  a  military  campaign 
may  be  the  height  of  oratory  to  soldiers  who  have 
shared  its  victories  and  borne  its  defeats;  to  a  civilian 
of  another  land,  disassociated  from  the  facts,  the 
same  speech  may  seem  trite  and  uninteresting.  The 
famous  oath  of  Demosthenes  in  which  he  referred 
to  the  great  victories  gained  at  Marathon,  Salamis, 
Platseae,  and  Artimisium,  was  doubtless  most  moving 
to  a  Greek,  when  it  was  spoken;  but  to-day,  to  the 
average  man,  it  conveys  very  little  meaning.  In- 
stances of  the  kind  might  be  multiplied  well-nigh 
without  limit.  The  point,  however,  is  probably  clear 
enough:  that  oratory  is  largely  contingent  on  the 
character  and  condition  of  the  minds  of  the  hearers, 
and  for  this  reason  no  absolute  standards  in  regard  to 
it  can  reasonably  be  laid  down. 

Another  point  of  considerable  importance,  espe- 
cially with  reference  to  such  a  volume  as  the  present, 
is  that  no  oration  can  be  estimated  or  judged  finally 
from  any  other  aspect  than  that  of  a  hearer.  Oratory 
(the  true  object  of  which  is  to  produce  an  effect  at  the 
time  of  delivery)  is  composed  of  two  elements,  matter 
and  manner;  and  for  the  purposes  of  ultimate  criticism 
these  two  are  inseparably  connected.  The  much- 
quoted  remark  of  Charles  James  Fox,  when  he  was 
told  that  a  speech  read  well,  "  Then  it  must  have  been 
a  bad  speech,"  is  as  far  from  the  truth  as  the  popular 
estimate  which  ranks  Edmund  Burke  among  the 
world's  great  orators.  A  speech  which  reads  well  was 
not  necessarily  ineffective  when  spoken;  no  more  does 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  7 

the  delivery  of  essays  of  permanent  literary  value  en- 
title one  to  be  called  a  great  orator.  This  fact,  obvi- 
ous enough  in  itself,  is  forgotten  when  attempts  are 
made  to  classify  orators  definitely  on  the  basis  of  their 
printed  works,  and  when  each  year  at  oratorical  con- 
tests, two  sets  of  judges  are  appointed,  one  to  estimate 
the  manner  of  delivery,  the  other  the  literary  value  of 
the  compositions.  Ideally,  the  method  of  studying  ora- 
tory is  to  hear  an  oration  delivered;  then,  when  it 
appears  in  print,  to  examine  its  woof  and  texture  criti- 
cally, to  observe  how  the  results  were  produced. 
Clearly,  however,  because  of  the  few  speeches  we 
hear  worthy  of  such  regard,  this  method  of  study  is 
rarely  possible.  But  its  peculiarly  good  results  will 
not  be  wholly  denied  if  the  student  supplements  his 
reading  with  the  frequent  hearing  of  spoken  dis- 
courses of  all  sorts,  and  if  he  will  remember  that  any 
appreciation  based  on  printed  words  alone  is  likely  to 
fall  somewhat  short  of  the  truth. 


II.   THE  DIVISIONS  OF  ORATORY. 

We  have  considered  what  oratory  is  and  how,  by 
its  appeal  to  the  emotions,  it  differs  from  public  speak- 
ing in  general ;  we  have  seen  how  this  appeal  depends 
for  its  effectiveness  largely  upon  the  state  of  mind  of 
those  who  compose  an  audience;  and  finally  we  saw 
from  what  standpoint — that  of  the  hearer — any  oration 
ought  ideally  to  be  judged.  We  can  now  advance  a 
step,  and  turn  to  the  broad  divisions  into  which  ora- 
tions have  been  classified.  Although  variously  named 
by  different  writers,  these  divisions — a  single  addition 


S  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

excepted — have  always  been  intrinsically  the  same: 
they  have  been  based  on  one  of  two  points  of  view, 
either  upon  the  attitude  of  an  audience  toward  a 
speech,  or  upon  the  purpose  of  the  speaker,  and  usu- 
ally upon  the  former.  For  example,  Aristotle,  who 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  oratorical  art  so  deeply  that 
those  who  have  followed  have  done  little  more  than 
amplify  his  ideas,  finds  three  attitudes  in  an  audience, 
and  upon  these  he  bases  his  divisions  of  oratory.  He 
says  that  audiences  are  either  judges  of  things  lying  in 
the  past,  as  are  members  of  judicial  tribunals;  or 
judges  of  things  lying  in  the  future,  as  are  members  of 
assemblies  and  deliberative  bodies;  or  critics,  as  are 
those  who  estimate  only  the  ability  of  a  speaker  or  the 
power  and  charm  of  a  speech.  Then,  from  this  analy- 
sis, he  draws  the  conclusion  that  there  can  be  but 
three  kinds  of  speeches — judicial,  deliberative,  and 
epideictic,  the  oration  of  display.  To  this  division, 
the  birth  of  Christianity,  and  the  part  played  in  the 
spreading  of  its  doctrine  by  spoken  discourse,  has 
added  a  new,  a  fourth  type  of  oratory;  but  with  this 
exception,  Aristotle's  classification  is  as  valuable  to- 
day as  it  was  two  thousand  years  ago.  We  may 
therefore  adopt  it,  making  the  addition  which  has 
just  been  suggested,  and  changing  a  little,  although 
somewhat  arbitrarily,  the  nomenclature.  For  judicial, 
a  word  which  is  now  open  to  several  significations, 
the  term  forensic,  designating  more  univocally  the  ora- 
tory of  the  bar,  may  be  substituted ;  and  in  place  of  epi- 
deictic, the  word  demonstrative,  which  was  adopted  by 
Roman  rhetoricians,  and  since  them  almost  universally 
by  other  writers,  is  probably  better.  We  shall  then 
have  four  great  divisions  of  oratory,  as  follows:  (i) 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  9 

deliberative,  the  oratory  of  the  assembly;  (2)  forensic, 
the  oratory  of  the  bar;  (3)  demonstrative  (also  called 
occasional),  the  oratory  of  display;  and  (4)  pulpit,  the 
oratory  of  the  Christian  Church.  Each  of  these  must 
be  considered  separately. 

III.    DELIBERATIVE   ORATORY. 

Although  deliberative  oratory  has  been  defined  as 
the  oratory  of  the  assembly,  the  inference  must  not  be 
drawn  that  it  is  restricted  in  scope  to  speeches  before' 
legislative  assemblies ;  with  the  debates  of  such  bodies 
it  is,  indeed,  most  commonly  associated,  but  its  actual 
scope  is  by  no  means  so  limited.  Any  speech  be- 
fore a  number  of  people  who  listen  as  judges,  where 
the  object  of  the  speaker  is  to  induce  his  hearers  to 
accept  or  reject  a  given  policy  for  the  future,  may  be 
called  a  deliberative  speech.  Thus  to  this  class  be- 
long not  only  most  congressional  efforts,  but  speeches 
in  conventions,  those  on  the  hustings,  those  in  pub- 
lic meetings  of  many  sorts,  as  well  as  those  before 
synods  and  conferences.  When  a  member  of  a  board 
of  directors  presents  to  his  colleagues  ideas  concern- 
ing a  business  plan,  his  remarks  also  fall  under  this 
category.  Evidently,  then,  the  division  of  oratory 
before  us  is  much  broader  th°n  might  seem  from  the 
first  definition;  it  is,  in  fact,  as  extensive  as  is  the 
range  of  topics  which  men  may  be  called  to  deliberate 
upon. 

Those  who  are  fond  of  ascertaining  the  period  when 
arts  have  first  been  practiced,  have  an  interesting 
though  not  wholly  profitable  subject  in  tracing  the  be- 
ginnings of  deliberative  oratory.  Although  perhaps 


10  THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

not  coeval  with  the  faculty  of  speech,  it  is  certainly 
very  old.  Sedulous  inquirers  point  to  the  harangues 
in  the  Bible,  and  to  the  stormy  councils  which  enliven 
many  pages  of  Homer  as  the  first  examples  of  deliber- 
ative speech.  But  these  examples,  whatever  their  anti- 
quarian interest,  have  little  value  for  the  student.  Not 
much  more  regard  can  be  paid  to  the  speeches  which 
the  early  historians,  particularly  Herodotus,  but  Thu- 
cydides  as  well,  put  into  the  mouths  of  some  of  their 
characters.  The  real  beginning  of  deliberative  ora- 
tory had  better  be  placed  somewhere  in  the  first  years 
of  the  fifth  century  before  Christ;  the  date  of  Antiphon, 
who  was  born  in  480,  is  a  convenient  starting  place. 
About  150  years  after  Antiphon  was  born,  Demosthe- 
nes, with  whom  Greek  oratory,  and  possibly  the  de- 
liberative oratory  of  all  time,  reached  its  acme,  died; 
and  thenceforth  with  the  victories  of  Philip  of  Mace- 
don  and  the  decay  of  liberty  and  virtue,  oratory,  ex- 
cept intermittently,  ceased  to  be  a  vital  force  in  Greece. 
In  Rome  deliberative  oratory  also  had  a  splendid 
record;  but,  as  if  following  too  closely  the  history  as 
well  as  the  artistic  inspiration  of  Greece,  it  culminated 
in  a  single  great  name,  Cicero,  and  then  fell  into  less 
worthy  forms.  During  the  Dark  Ages  there  was  lit- 
tle chance  for  any  kind  of  oratory  whatsoever.  But 
when  the  results  of  the  Reformation  began  to  be  felt, 
public  speech  once  more  became  a  necessity.  The 
men  who  laid  the  foundations  of  English  political  lib- 
erty— Eliot,  Pym,  Cromwell — were  also  the  first  Eng- 
lish political  orators,  the  first  of  a  line  the  life  of  which 
has  not  yet  expired.  In  our  own  country  deliberative 
oratory  has  had  a  record  of  singular  power  and  serv- 
ice. It  lighted  the  fires  which  burned  into  the  Revo- 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  H 

lution.  The  Constitution  is  its  product.  And  it 
refined  the  wisdom  that  solved  the  great  problems  of 
the  first  half  century  of  our  history.  No  single  influ- 
ence has  been  more  powerful  in  shaping  our  destiny 
as  a  nation. 

The  pre-eminence  which  has  usually  been  conceded 
to  deliberative  oratory  may  be  ascribed  chiefly  to  three 
causes:  the  comprehensiveness  of  its  purpose,  the 
subjects  with  which  it  deals,  and  the  character  of  the 
audiences  to  which  it  is  addressed.  A  few  words  will 
make  these  reasons  clear.  Forensic  oratory  is  con- 
cerned primarily  with  the  rights  of  individuals,  rarely 
with  the  rights  of  the  many;  sermons  are  likewise 
directed  to  individuals,  to  each  member  of  a  congrega- 
tion, rather  than  to  a  congregation  as  a  whole;  demon- 
strative oratory  has  no  especial  purpose,  except  to 
gratify  the  senses.  But  deliberative  oratory,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  to  do  with  the  individual  only  as  one  of 
a  larger  community.  It  is  concerned  not  with  what  has 
interest  and  importance  for  the  single  person,  but  with 
what  affects  a  body  of  people,  a  state,  or  a  nation; 
and  thus  it  is  exceptional  in  the  breadth  of  its  pur- 
pose. Furthermore,  the  subjects  with  which  deliber- 
ative oratory  has  to  do  are  more  vital  than  those 
touched  by  any  other  form  of  public  speaking,  that  of 
the  pulpit  alone  excepted.  These  subjects  embrace 
much  that  pertains  directly  to  the  physical  and 
spiritual  welfare  and  happiness  of  a  people;  to  their 
larger  affairs  with  other  nations;  and,  not  infrequently, 
to  questions  of  life  and  liberty.  Finally,  deliberative 
oratory  has  in  the  past  been  addressed  to  audiences, 
the  forums  and  senates  of  the  ancient  world,  the  parlia- 
ments and  legislatures  of  the  modern,  which,  taken  as 


12  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

a  whole,  have  probably  combined  intelligence  and 
mental  acumen  with  emotional  characteristics,  as 
have  no  other  bodies  which  speakers  have  faced. 

We  must,  however,  hasten  to  admit  that  delibera- 
tive oratory,  particularly  of  the  parliamentary  kind,  is 
now  on  the  decline.  The  great  oration  has  become  an 
unusual  episode  in  our  Senate  and  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, and  it  is  fast  becoming  unusual  in  the  Eng- 
lish House  of  Commons.  This  decline  is  scarcely  due, 
as  is  sometimes  said,  to  a  lack  of  great  orators  or  to 
the  fact  that  oratory  has  fallen  into  disrepute;  it  is  due 
more  probably  to  the  change  that  has  come  over  the 
legislative  bodies  themselves.  The  time  which  for- 
merly was  occupied  by  great  speakers  in  giving  a 
masterful  presentation  of  a  question  is  now  spent  in 
committee  rooms  or  in  committees  of  the  whole, 
where,  in  an  hour,  a  dozen  men  may  state  their  po- 
sition on  a  question  and  their  reasons  for  voting  as 
they  do.  So  large  have  legislative  bodies  become, 
and  so  many  and  varied  are  the  subjects  brought  be- 
fore them,  that  all  business  cannot  be  considered  by 
a  whole  house;  only  that  which  is  of  prime  importance 
can  have  such  consideration.  The  remainder  of  the 
work,  the  sifting  process,  must  take  place  before 
smaller  bodies,  where  the  opportunity  of  the  orator  is 
very  slight.  The  change  is  also  due  to  some  extent, 
perhaps,  to  the  kind  of  subjects  that  now  occupy  legis- 
latures. Small  details  of  administration,  tariff  sched- 
ules, currency  schemes,  do  not  as  a  rule  afford  much 
chance  for  emotional  speaking;  such  subjects  are 
better  treated  in  simple,  business-like  debate ;  and  thus 
debate  is  naturally  fast  taking  the  place  before  occu- 
pied by  deliberative  oratory. 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  13 

Above  it  has  been  said  that  the  purpose  of  deliber- 
ative oratory  is  to  persuade  an  audience  to  accept  or 
to  reject  a  policy  for  the  future.  Now,  the  object  of 
persuasion  is,  of  course,  as  common  to  forensic  oratory 
as  it  is  to  deliberative;  but,  in  each  of  these  cases,  there 
is  considerable  difference  in  the  relation  of  the  speaker 
to  the  subject  of  the  persuasion;  and  in  the  precise  re- 
lation of  the  deliberative  orator  to  his  facts  and 
arguments,  we  find  the  essential  feature  of  the  type  of 
oratory  before  us.  While  the  forensic  orator,  for  ex- 
ample, simply  presents  a  side  of  a  case,  without 
necessarily  acting  as  sponsor  for  more  than  the  logic 
of  his  argument,  the  deliberative  orator  accepts  as  his 
own  the  cause  which  he  advocates;  he  believes  fully 
in  the  inherent  truth  or  justice  of  what  he  says,  and  he 
urges  his  hearers  to  adopt  his  position,  as  the  one 
which,  in  his  best  judgment,  is  most  likely  to  result  to 
their  advantage.  He  stands  as  an  adviser;  his  speech 
is  counsel.  And,  from  this  attitude,  the  arguments 
which  he  uses  and  the  construction  of  his  speech  to  a 
great  extent  take  their  form. 

Let  us  look  to  this  more  closely,  and  first  to  the 
arguments.  In  order  to  determine  what  arguments 
will  be  most  effective  for  him,  the  deliberative  speaker, 
or  any  speaker  in  fact,  must  make  a  careful  analysis 
of  the  audience  which  he  is  to  address.  He  must  de- 
termine, as  accurately  as  possible,  what  its  intelligence 
is,  what  are  its  prejudices,  what  motives  are  likely  to 
be  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  those  who  compose  it, 
and  what  interest  it  may  have  in  the  question  in  hand. 
Then,  so  far  as  he  can,  he  must  reduce  the  audience 
to  a  single  individual,  or,  at  least,  to  two  or  three  indi- 
viduals, who  shall  represent  for  him  its  temperament. 


14  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

To  these  he  will  direct  his  arguments;  and  the  ma- 
terial which  is  likely  to  prove  most  valuable  is  that 
which  would  be  successful  if  used  in  conversation 
between  man  and  man,  where  one  acts  as  adviser,  and 
the  other  listens  to  see  how  far  his  words  may  be  of 
weight.  The  deliberative  speech  is  an  exceedingly 
practical  and  common-sense  effort.  The  questions 
which  come  up  before  legislative  bodies  and  pub- 
lic meetings  are  those  which  embarrass  the  lives  of 
each  one  of  us  nearly  every  day.  They  are  those  of 
present  expediency  as  opposed  to  consistent  principle, 
of  personal  interest  as  contrasted  with  public  welfare, 
of  friendly  obligation  against  absolute  justice.  And 
the  method  by  which  the  higher  and  broader  aspect  is 
made  to  triumph  over  the  more  sordid  is  no  different 
in  a  speech  from  what  it  is  in  an  earnest  conversation. 
The  same  motives  must  be  appealed  to,  the  same 
interests  must  be  combated,  and  in  very  much  the 
same  way.  This  the  skillful  speaker  always  realizes. 

Precisely  the  same  practical  purpose  must  be  held 
before  the  speaker  in  the  construction  of  his  speech. 
Other  forms  of  oratory  admit  of  rhetorical  embellish- 
ment and  ornate  composition;  deliberative  oratory 
rarely  does.  It  must  be  straightforward,  earnest, 
and  sincere,  and  whatever  tends  to  make  it  less  so, 
and  to  attract  attention  from  the  substance  of  the 
speech  to  the  manner  of  the  speaker,  is  an  element 
of  weakness.  Clearness  and  directness,  rather  than 
elegance,  are  the  ends  to  be  sought  for.  Specifically 
how  these  ends  are  to  be  gained  is  a  question  which 
must  be  left  to  text-books  on  rhetoric.  Here  we 
can  only  observe  that  it  is  of  genuine  importance 
that  the  deliberative  speech  center  around  a  single 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  1$ 

idea  or  group  of  ideas,  and  that  all  evidence  that 
is  offered  should  have  direct  bearing  on  these  points. 
All  unessential,  extrinsic  matter  must  be  rigorously 
excluded.  The  orderly  development  of  the  argu- 
ment is  another  very  necessary  element.  By  such 
methods  as  frequent  iteration  and  summary,  this  de- 
velopment must  be  clearly  indicated.  The  audience 
should  never  be  in  doubt  as  to  what  the  speaker's 
object  is,  or  what  purpose  each  idea  that  he  introduces 
serves.  The  worst  fate  that  can  befall  an  oration  is 
not  to  be  heard;  the  next  is  to  be  unintelligible. 

In  all  kinds  of  oratory  the  character  of  the  orator 
plays  an  important  part  in  the  effect  his  words  pro- 
duce; but  particularly  is  this  the  case  in  deliberative 
oratory.  As  has  been  noted,  the  deliberative  speaker 
is  the  counselor  who  stands  sponsor  for  the  meas- 
ures which  he  advocates.  However  illogical  at 
times  it  may  be,  the  majority  of  people  are  unwilling 
to  give  much  heed  to  the  advice  of  one  whose  life  tends 
to  belie  his  words.  No  notorious  evildoer  is  thought 
a  good  witness  for  the  results  of  Spartan  virtue;  so 
no  political  speaker,  whose  past  life  is  marked  by 
tergiversation  and  truckling,  has  much  authority  when 
he  appeals  for  unselfish  support  of  a  measure  in  which 
he  is  interested.  The  sincerity  of  his  statements  is 
called  into  question,  and  none  choose  to  follow  a  leader 
who  does  not  believe  his  own  words.  Consistency, 
therefore,  between  the  utterances  and  the  acts  of  a 
speaker,  especially  the  deliberative  speaker,  is  of 
the  utmost  importance. 

In  review,  then,  we  may  say  that  the  valuable  facts 
to  be  remembered  about  deliberative  oratory  are  its 
broad  field  and  its  exceedingly  practical  value.  For- 


1 6  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

ensic  and  pulpit  oratory  are  restricted  to  the  members 
of  a  single  profession,  and  but  few  out  of  many  are 
called  upon  to  pronounce  a  eulogy  or  to  commemo- 
rate in  speech  a  great  event.  But  a  deliberative 
speech,  whether  it  be  the  great  oration  before  a  sen- 
ate or  a  few  remarks  on  a  motion  in  a  public  meeting, 
at  some  time  or  other  comes  as  a  duty  to  nearly 
every  man.  The  precise  nature  of  the  deliberative  ora- 
tion, we  saw,  is  that  of  advice.  The  orator  is  the 
counselor,  and  upon  this  fact  largely  depends  the  ma- 
terial and  the  construction  of  his  speech. 


IV.    FORENSIC   ORATORY. 

Although,  for  reasons  that  have  been  set  forth,  the 
capital  importance  of  deliberative  oratory  cannot  be 
questioned,  this  is  neither  the  oldest,  when  regarded 
as  a  technical  art,  nor  has  it  been  the  most  highly  per- 
fected of  the  various  forms  of  speaking;  both  of  these 
distinctions  belong  to  forensic  oratory — the  oratory 
of  the  bar.  As  Professor  Jebb  has  shown  in  his  Attic 
Orators,  public  speaking  was  first  taught  and  practiced 
scientifically,  not  as  an  art  for  its  own  sake,  nor  yet  for 
political  purposes;  but  to  assist  individuals  in  main- 
taining and  recovering  their  rights  in  courts  of  law. 
In  the  courts,  owing  to  ignorance  of  forms  and  pro- 
cedure, men  often  found  themselves  at  a  loss  to  secure 
justice;  instruction  was  then  given  to  help  them,  and 
this  instruction  formed  the  basis  of  the  art  of  oratory. 
The  broader  interests  of  the  community  or  nation, 
which  are  the  themes  of  deliberative  oratory,  as  well 
as  the  desire  for  artistic  perfection,  were  at  first  sub- 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  I? 

servient  to  the  very  practical  end  of  obtaining  and 
protecting  personal  rights.  The  technical  superior- 
ity thus  early  acquired  was  never  lost.  The  ma- 
jority of  the  great  names  in  Grecian  and  Roman  elo- 
quence are  those  of  men  famous  for  their  forensic, 
rather  than  their  political  or  panegyric,  efforts;  the 
schools  and  preceptors  who  did  so  much  to  develop 
oratorical  taste  and  ability,  had  greatest  regard  for  the 
forms  of  legal  tribunals;  in  uie  treatises  which  were 
written, — those  of  Cicero  and  Quintilian,  for  example, 
— even  in  the  definition  of  oratory  itself,  the  forensic 
oration  is  undoubtedly  the  one  held  in  mind.  Clearly 
forensic  oratory,  in  perfection  of  form  and  in  the 
amount  of  attention  paid  to  it,  transcended  all  rivals 
in  the  ancient  world. 

But  this  relative  superiority  obviously  no  longer 
exists,  and  we  are  at  once  constrained  to  ask  why. 
The  difference,  more  than  to  anything  else  is  due  to  a 
change  in  the  character  of  courts  of  law  and  their 
methods  of  procedure.  The  ancient  court  was  com- 
posed of  many  more  judges  than  we  are  now  accus- 
tomed to;  in  the  Areopagus,  the  renowned  court  of 
Athens,  the  number  of  judges  has  been  differently  esti- 
mated as  from  fifty  to  five  hundred;  and  in  the  tribunal 
at  Rome  before  which  Cicero  spoke  for  Milo,  the 
number  was,  it  is  said,  at  least  fifty.  With  so  many 
judges  as  this,  a  court  was  much  like  a  popular  assem- 
bly of  citizens;  the  arguments  which  might  be  used 
and  the  emotions  which  might  be  appealed  to,  by  a 
speaker,  were  similar  to  those  to  which  the  delibera- 
tive orator  might  have  recourse.  But  in  another,  and 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  orator,  still  more  vital  way, 
the  ancient  and  the  modern  courts  differ;  namely,  in 


18  THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

the  methods  of  procedure  and  in  the  freedom  which 
was  permitted  in  arguing  a  cause,  Instead  of  being 
confined  within  the  narrow  limits  of  a  fixed  form,  and 
restricted  to  definite,  unalterable  rules,  the  forensic 
orator  of  Greece  and  Rome  was  little  bound  as  to 
either  the  method  or  the  material  of  his  speech.  The 
law  was  extremely  simple;  Cicero  said  that  it  could  be 
mastered  in  three  months;  and  the  judges,  who  sat  on 
facts  as  well  as  law,  based  their  decision  largely  on 
equity  and  a  sense  of  justice.  In  addition  to  this  the 
orator  was  granted  a  latitude  of  speech  quite  incom- 
prehensible to  us;  a  defendant's  life,  his  public  services, 
his  moral  character,  his  family  affairs,  all  could  be 
drawn  upon  with  impunity.  Matter  which  to-day 
would  be  regarded  as  extraneous  and  wholly  irrelevant 
was  made  the  basis  of  argument.  When  Cicero  spoke 
in  behalf- of  the  citizenship  of  the  poet  Archias,  not 
more  than  one-sixth  of  his  oration  was  on  the  legal 
question;  the  rest  was  a  splendid  laudation  of  Archias 
and  of  letters  in  general.  As  one  writer  has  said, 
Cicero's  argument  was  that  "  Archias  was  a  Roman 
citizen,  because  he  was  a  great  Greek  poet." 

To-day  all  this  is  manifestly  different;  the  condi- 
tions are  just  about  reversed.  The  number  of  judges 
sitting  in  any  trial  is  small,  rarely  more  than  a  dozen; 
and  these  men  are  governed  in  their  rulings  entirely 
by  law  and  precedent;  prejudice,  the  play  of  the  emo- 
tions, which  gave  so  much  opportunity  for  the 
imagination  and  rhetoric  of  the  ancient  orator,  are 
rigorously  excluded  and  frowned  upon.  Questions 
are  no  longer  settled  by  the  baring  of  a  bosom,  or  by 
the  exposure  of  a  wound,  but  by  hard  facts  and  in- 
exorable logic.  Still  more,  the  pleader  is  confined 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  19 

within  certain  narrow  and  well-marked  limits,  and  woe 
to  him  who,  led  by  ardor  in  his  cause,  oversteps  them. 
In  the  celebrated  trial  of  Captain  Baillie,  when  Erskine 
animadverted  upon  a  certain  Lord  as  the  author  of  all 
the  iniquity  that  Baillie  had  pointed  out,  he  was  repri- 
manded by  Lord  Mansfield,  and  told  that  that  person 
was  not  before  the  court;  in  Cicero's  time  no  heed  of 
such  an  excursus  would  have  been  taken,  except,  per- 
haps, to  note  the  success  with  which  the  charge  was 
pressed. 

The  results  of  the  changes  which  we  have  noted 
are  evident  to  every  observer ;  forensic  oratory  has  de- 
clined in  both  quality  and  quantity  until  now  it  is 
notable  for  its  rarity,  so  thoroughly  does  oratory  de- 
pend on  the  emotional  appeal.  Occasionally,  to  be 
sure,  a  cause  will  arise,  such  as  the  income-tax  case 
of  some  years  ago,  or  the  impeachment  of  President 
Johnson,  or  the  case  which  called  forth  the  speech 
printed  in  this  volume — a  cause  involving  a  great 
moral  or  political  question;  and  then,  for  a  brief  mo- 
ment, forensic  oratory  will  shine  forth  with  its  old 
luster.  But  such  instances  are  not  frequent.  By  the 
change  we  have  unquestionably  gained  more  accurate 
justice;  but  we  have  lost,  in  the  main,  a  picturesque 
and  inspiring  oratory,  the  type  thought  by  Cicero  to  be 
the  greatest. 

Still,  we  shall  undoubtedly  be  justified  in  consider- 
ing forensic  methods  in  some  detail;  if  not  as  a  part 
of  oratory,  at  least  as  an  important  part  of  public 
speaking.  For  our  purposes  the  subject  may  be 
divided  into  two  parts,  the  argument  before  judges, 
and  that  before  juries.  According  to  the  modern  sys- 
tem of  judicature  all  questions  of  law  are  tried  before 


30  THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

judges ;  while,  ordinarily,  questions  of  fact  are  brought 
before  juries.  Juries  are  bodies  of  men  chosen  from 
the  people,  not  wholly  unassailable  by  the  arts  and 
charms  of  the  pleader's  tongue;  judges,  as  has  already 
been  said,  are  usually  few  in  number,  and  from  long 
experience  are  less  likely  to  be  moved  by  other  than 
sound  argument.  Evidently  there  must  be  a  consider- 
able difference  between  the  speech  to  be  delivered 
before  a  jury  and  the  one  which  is  intended  only  for  a 
bench. 

The  speech  before  the  jury  naturally  gives  so  much 
more  opportunity  for  persuasive  speaking  that  this  is 
by  many  regarded  as  the  chief  source  of  the  jury  law- 
yer's success.  Such  an  opinion  is  not,  however,  alto- 
gether correct.  Juries  are  frequently  on  the  watch 
for  men  who  would  win  their  verdict  by  speech  rather 
than  by  argument;  they  are,  for  the  most  part,  com- 
posed of  hard-headed,  matter-of-fact  citizens,  who, 
more  times  than  is  suspected,  know  when  unsupported 
hypotheses  and  assumptions  are  given  to  them  for 
facts.  So  it  is  not  so  axiomatic  that  persuasive 
speech  is  all  that  he  requires  who  would  win  verdicts. 
More  discriminating  analysis  will  show  that  absolute 
lucidity  of  statement  is  a  quality  of  almost  as  great 
importance.  The  advocate  who  can  present  a  case 
in  such  a  manner  that  a  number  of  men,  only  ordi- 
narily perspicacious,  see  it  so  clearly  that  they  can 
see  no  other  side  of  it,  is  more  likely  to  have  perennial 
success  than  one  who  relies  more  completely  on  his 
ability  to  unbridle  emotions.  As  is  generally  known, 
such  was  the  source  of  much  of  the  enviable  power  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  as  a  lawyer.  Combined  with  an 
extraordinary  gift  for  seeing  just  what  was  essential 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  21 

in  a  discussion,  he  had  a  genius  for  defining  a  po- 
sition so  that  no  one  could  escape  either  the  chain  of 
his  reasoning  or  the  logic  of  his  conclusions.  An- 
other quality  very  necessary  before  a  jury  is  sincerity ; 
and  this  carries  with  it,  as  a  corollary,  simplicity  of 
statement.  No  jury  is  likely  to  have  respect  for  a 
man  who,  knowing  better,  makes  grammatical  errors 
for  the  purpose  of  putting  himself,  as  it  were,  on  a 
level  with  them.  At  the  same  time,  anything  a  counsel 
can  do  to  establish  community  of  thought  and  feeling 
with  the  jury  is  for  the  better;  and  in  no  way  can  this 
be  accomplished  more  skillfully  than  by  downright 
earnestness  and  sincerity  in  speech.  So,  on  the  con- 
trary, an  attempt  to  befuddle  or  hoodwink,  or  to  ex- 
ploit diction,  is  more  than  certain  to  be  disastrous. 
Jurymen  generally  assume  seriously  the  task  of  dis- 
covering the  truth  from  a  body  of  facts;  with  one  who 
seems  imbued  with  a  like  desire  they  are  glad,  when 
they  can,  to  be  in  accord;  but  they  do  not  take  kindly 
to  any  attempt  to  make  their  duties  more  difficult. 
Aside,  then,  from  persuasive  speaking,  the  value  of 
which  can  by  no  means  be  disregarded,  clearness  in 
presentation,  and  sincerity,  are  the  important  charac- 
teristics of  the  speech  before  the  jury. 

The  speech  before  judges  presents  a  different  fac- 
tor, and  hence  a  different  problem.  As  has  been 
noted,  the  function  of  the  trial  before  judges  is  to  con- 
sider questions  of  law,  not  ordinarily  questions  of  fact; 
and,  therefore,  opportunity  for  eloquence  is  reduced  to 
a  minimum.  In  jury  trials,  especially  in  those  of 
criminal  cases,  the  circumstances  often  permit  ani- 
mated and  even  imaginative  discourse;  the  trial  of  a 
point  of  law  rarely  does.  So  far  indeed  is  this  kind  of 


22  THE   THEORY  OF  .ORATORY. 

speaking  now  removed  from  the  realm  of  oratory  that 
we  need  not  long  consider  it.  The  address  to  the 
court  is  usually  an  exposition  of  legal  principles,  sup- 
ported by  citations  from  cases  and  precedents.  Learn- 
ing in  the  law  and  the  faculty  of  stating  precepts  in  a 
logical  way  seem  to  be  the  requisites;  certainly  they 
are  more  important  than  facundity.  Clearness  in 
presentation  enters  also,  although,  because  of  the 
greater  intelligence  and  acumen  of  the  audience,  it 
has  scarcely  such  value  as  in  the  speech  to  the 
jury.  In  fairness,  too,  one  point  must  not  be  neg- 
lected; and  this  is  that  when  appeals  to  the  emotions 
are  possible,  they  may  be  elevated  and  dignified.  By 
tenure  of  office,  by  position  in  society,  and  by  learn- 
ing, judges  are  removed  beyond  the  obvious  and  less 
delicate  methods  of  persuasion;  but  the  dignity  of 
justice,  the  necessity  of  preserving  our  institutions, 
and  the  sacredness  of  the  rights  of  the  individuals  and 
classes  committed  to  their  hands,  are  themes  which, 
although  hackneyed,  can,  when  chance  offers,  be  used 
with  great  power  and  effectiveness.  The  character  of 
the  appeals  thus  in  some  way  atones  for  the  insuffi- 
cient opportunity  for  their  use. 

The  general  structure  of  all  forensic  speeches, 
whether  they  be  ancient  or  modern,  or  intended  for 
judge  or  jury,  is  the  same;  they  consist  of  three  essen- 
tial parts:  a  statement  of  the  facts  on  which  the  case 
rests;  a  statement,  drawn  from  these  facts,  of  the 
points  at  issue;  and  the  proof  of  the  issues. 
But  before  any  attempt  can  be  made  at  forensic 
speaking,  there  must  precede  what  may  technically 
be  called  the  analysis  of  the  question,  the  proc- 
ess by  which  what  is  really  essential  in  a  case  is 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  23 

discovered.  All  litigation  that  comes  before  the  law- 
yer's eye  presents  a  multitude  of  facts,  some  of  which 
are  relevant,  some  of  which  are  not ;  in  every  case  there 
are,  too,  certain  points  which,  if  proved,  will  prove  the 
general  contention.  Now,  it  is  the  part  of  the  analysis 
of  the  question  to  determine,  first,  what  these  important 
points  are,  and,  second,  what  relation  the  rest  of  the 
evidence  bears  to  them.  When  this  analysis,  which, 
after  the  presentation  of  evidence,  is  the  most  essen- 
tial part  of  argumentation,  has  been  made,  the  struc- 
ture of  the  oration  is  easily  solved.  After  a  brief  in- 
troduction comes  the  statement  of  the  events  leading 
up  to  and  out  of  which  the  contention  arises.  Al- 
though this  statement  must  be  made  tersely,  it  must  be 
full  enough  to  give  a  just  comprehension  of  the  ques- 
tion and  its  bearings;  and  great  care  must  also  be 
taken  that  the  facts  be  not  distorted,  but  stated  in  a 
fair  and  unbiased  way.  Then  come  the  issues,  or,  as 
they  are  sometimes  called,  the  proposition;  that  is,  just 
what  the  question  resolves  itself  into.  The  argument 
proper  follows.  Each  issue  or  division  is  taken  up 
in  order  and  proved  or  disproved,  all  the  evidence 
being  grouped  under  one  or  another  of  the  heads. 
Finally,  the  oration  ends  either  with  a  summary  or 
with  a  spirited  appeal,  or  with  both.  Later  in  this 
essay  the  parts  of  the  typical  oration  are  treated  in 
detail;  but  as  the  structure  of  the  forensic  speech  dif- 
fers, to  some  extent,  from  other  forms,  it  was  thought 
best  to  make  here  this  brief  statement. 


24  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

V.    DEMONSTRATIVE    ORATORY. 

The  term  demonstrative,  it  must  be  confessed,  when 
applied  to  oratory  conveys  but  very  little  meaning. 
We  have  noted  above  that  the  word  is  the  transla- 
tion made  by  the  Roman  rhetoricians  of  the  Greek 
epideictic  (from  «n8«Wv/«,  to  display)  meaning  that 
which  shows;  the  purpose  of  such  orations  being  to 
show  or  set  forth  themes  so  as  to  appeal  to  the  taste 
or  cultivation  of  a  hearer.  But  even  after  such 
an  explanation,  the  pertinency  of  the  term  un- 
doubtedly seems  forced;  and  if  it  were  any  less 
generally  accepted  by  writers  on  oratory,  or  if  a  suf- 
ficient substitute  could  be  offered,  we  should  not  make 
use  of  it  at  all.  The  word  occasional,  however,  often 
employed  in  its  stead,  is  really  no  better  than  demon- 
strative; for,  although  more  intelligible,  it  gives 
scarcely  any  hint  as  to  the  purpose  of  the  oratory  to 
which  it  is  applied;  demonstrative  at  least  does  this. 
The  province  of  demonstrative  oratory  was  said  by 
the  ancients  to  be  the  praise  or  censure  of  persons  or 
things,  or,  to  put  it  differently,  panegyric  or  invective. 
It  applied  to  all  such  speeches  "as  having  no  reference 
either  to  deliberation  for  the  future,  or  adjudication 
upon  the  past,  were  engrossed  with  the  present  mo- 
ment; and  were  usually  adapted  more  to  exhortation 
than  to  business;  to  show  rather  than  to  action."  The 
field  thus  indicated  is  uncommonly  large;  the  popu- 
lar lecture,  the  dedicatory  or  anniversary  address,  the 
commencement  oration,  the  after-dinner  speech — all 
come  under  the  category.  The  purpose  of  all  these 
is  not  to  convince,  so  much  as  to  charm  the  senses 
with  words  that  are  fit  and  adequate. 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  25 

Because  it  has  no  direct,  practical  value,  and  be- 
cause it  aims  ostensibly  at  nothing  higher  than  to 
please,  demonstrative  has  usually  been  regarded  as 
the  least  important  of  the  four  great  divisions  of  ora- 
tory. The  general  justness  of  this  conclusion  probably 
cannot  be  denied;  and  yet  one  may  reasonably  doubt 
whether  it  is  true  that  this  form  of  oratory  does  serve 
no  purpose  beyond  the  gratification  of  the  senses.  As 
an  instance  of  something  pointing  to  the  contrary, 
the  orations  which  used  to  be  delivered  in  nearly  every 
city  and  hamlet  on  Independence  Day  might  be  cited. 
Can  it  be  said  that  these  orations,  reviewing,  as  they 
did,  the  hardships  and  successes  of  our  forefathers, 
in  inculcating  patriotism,  and  in  impressing  later 
generations  with  the  sacredness  of  the  heritage  handed 
down  to  them,  were  of  no  value  to  the  state?  Is  it 
not  certain  that  one  who  had  heard  such  themes  di- 
lated upon  would  inevitably  have  a  higher  sense  of 
public  duty,  a  stronger  attachment  for  his  country, 
than  before?  Or,  to  turn  to  c.nother  branch  of  demon- 
strative oratory,  the  eulogy.  By  common  consent  few 
things  are  more  helpful  than  the  biography  of  a  good 
and  great  man.  Such  biographies,  by  bringing  out 
the  consistent  beauty  of  high  ideas  and  ideals,  make 
life  a  sweeter  and  happier  thing.  But  more  than  the 
critical,  carefully  weighed  biography,  the  eulogy,  pre- 
senting, as  it  does  in  large  detail,  characteristics  lovely 
to  look  upon,  contributes  to  this  end.  In  holding  up 
before  the  masses  the  importance  of  public  virtue  and 
integrity  of  conduct,  the  eulogy  not  only  pays  tribute 
to  the  dead,  it  furnishes  inspiration  for  the  living. 
The  plea  can,  however,  be  placed  on  a  much  broader 
basis  than  that  of  mere  utility.  Oratory,  just  as  litera- 


26  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

ture,  painting,  or  music,  is  an  art,  a  means  of  creative 
expression;  and,  because  of  the  instruments  which  it 
employs,  it  has  strong  claims  to  be  reckoned  as  the 
greatest  of  the  creative  arts.  The  art  of  the  actor  and 
the  reader  is  joined  with  that  of  the  man  of  letters,  the 
philosopher,  and  the  statesman,  in  producing  the  great 
orator.  If,  therefore,  poetry,  music,  or  painting,  aside 
from  the  ideas  or  information  which  they  convey,  have 
justification  for  existing,  oratory  certainly  has,  too. 
No  one  will  perhaps  urge  that  oratory  should  be  given 
the  place  it  occupied  in  Greece,  when  it  was  chief 
among  the  fine  arts,  but  everyone  should  regret  that 
we  have  gone  so  far  to  the  other  extreme.  Just  why 
we  have  done  this  is  a  question  futile  to  answer  here ; 
here  we  are  concerned  only  in  showing  that  oratory, 
as  one  of  the  fine  arts  of  expression,  in  its  demonstra- 
tive form,  where  it  comes  more  nearly  on  common 
ground  with  the  other  arts,  is  worthy  of  the  attention 
and  cultivation  of  the  best  men. 

There  is,  moreover,  a  reason  still  beyond  this,  why 
this  division  of  oratory  should  appeal  to  Americans, 
and  particularly  to  students  of  to-day.  In  Greece  and 
Rome  demonstrative  oratory  was  highly  perfected  and 
much  practiced;  in  France,  too,  especially  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  one  form,  the  eulogy,  received  a  great 
deal  of  attention ;  but  it  is  in  our  own  country  that  the 
fullest  expression  of  the  type  is  to  be  found.  A  further 
fact,  too,  to  be  noted  with  more  than  usual  care,  is  that 
the  present  epoch,  that  represented  by  the  selections  in 
this  volume,  beginning  roughly  with  the  War,  is  before 
anything  else  one  of  demonstrative  oratory.  In  the 
history  of  oratory  whatever  place  is  ultimately  as- 
signed to  this  period  will  be  given  it  on  account  of  its 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  2? 

demonstrative  speakers. '  In  fact,  in  the  past  thirty  years 
almost  the  entire  production  of  enduring  orations  in 
the  United  States  has  been  of  this  type.  For  this 
reason,  in  the  selections  much  more  space  has  been 
given  to  this  than  to  any  other  division;  and,  for  the 
same  reason,  we  shall  here  be  warranted  in  discussing 
with  some  fullness  each  of  the  forms  which  the  demon- 
strative oration  has  taken:  the  eulogy,  the  commemo- 
rative oration,  the  platform  oration,  and  the  after-din- 
ner address. 

THE  EULOGY. — The  eulogy,  which  is  probably  the 
oldest  form  of  the  oratory  of  display,  was  by  the  an- 
cients regarded  as  the  most  important.  The  subjects 
of  eulogy  were  not,  however,  so  restricted  then  as  they 
are  now;  gods  and  cities,  as  well  as  men,  could  ap- 
propriately be  made  the  themes  of  praise.  In  Greek 
literature  of  the  many  examples  of  the  eulogy,  the  stu- 
dent will  possibly  recall  first  the  discourse  delivered 
by  Pericles  over  those  who  fell  in  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  an  oration  which  expresses  lofty  sentiment  in  a 
singularly  restrained  and  temperate  manner.  In  the 
modern  world  the  French  have  attracted  to  themselves 
more  honor  in  this  field  than  any  other  nation.  Espe- 
cially in  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  a  group  of  men  arose, 
— Bossuet,  Massillon,  Flechier,  Bourdaloue, — whose 
names  have  since  been  synonymous  with  what  is 
known  as  the  funeral  oration.  All  of  these  men  were 
prelates,  and  their  most  famous  discourses  were  de- 
livered at  the  obsequies  of  important  personages  of 
Louis'  court.  Besides  their  productions,  the  custom 
of  the  French  Academy  of  having  memorial  addresses 
spoken  after  the  deaths  of  its  members  has  given 
to  France  an  exceedingly  large  and  brilliant  eulogistic 


28  THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

literature.  In  the  United  States  the  eulogy  has  also 
been  a  form  of  speech  much  practiced;  scarcely  any 
great  man,  certainly  no  one  identified  with  public 
affairs,  has  died  in  this  century  who  has  not  had  his 
deeds  commemorated  in  this  way;  and  in  many  cases 
such  orations  are  among  the  most  enduring  monu- 
ments which  these  men  have  had  raised  to  their 
memory. 

With  us  the  field  of  eulogy  has  been  limited  to  the 
praises  of  men.  And  there  are  two  ways  in  which  these 
praises  are  generally  handled.  The  first  method,  once 
much  followed,  is  what  may  be  called  the  biographi- 
cal method.  A  life  is  treated  chronologically.  From 
the  early  years  to  the  end  the  eulogist  follows  with 
minuteness  the  career  of  the  subject,  reserving  only  a 
brief  space  before  the  conclusion  for  observations  and 
reflections.  Of  such  a  treatment  many  illustrations 
will  be  found  in  the  works  of  Edward  Everett.  That 
orator's  address  on  Lafayette  is,  for  example,  simply 
a  clear  and  painstaking  sketch  of  the  life  of  the  great 
Frenchman.  To-day,  however,  one  finds  the  method 
used  much  less  frequently.  One  reason  for  its 
abandonment  was  probably  that,  on  the  death  of  great 
men,  newspapers  and  magazines  furnish  such  ample 
accounts  of  their  lives  as  to  make  repetition  in  a  eulogy 
needless  and  tiresome.  A  still  more  valid  reason  may 
be,  too,  that  the  reciting  of  a  biographical  sketch  has 
little  to  commend  it  to  a  man  of  ability  or  genius.  By 
anyone  having  the  proper  materials  such  a  sketch  can 
be  turned  out;  no  great  penetration  or  skill  is  required, 
nor,  when  the  work  is  completed,  does  any  great  inter- 
est or  value  necessarily  attach  to  it. 

Usually,  therefore,  we  find  a  different  plan  is  em- 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  *9 

ployed  by  most  speakers.  In  place  of  giving  a  chrono- 
logical narrative,  but  little  attention  is  paid  to  events 
merely  as  such;  perhaps  no  dates  at  all  will  be  men- 
tioned; instead,  an  effort  is  made  to  single  out  and  set 
forth  clearly  what  the  subject  of  the  eulogy  accom- 
plished in  his  life;  what  he  stood  for;  what  influence 
he  exerted;  and  what  is  likely  to  be  his  place  in  his- 
tory. No  especial  discernment  is  needed  to  see  that 
such  a  treatment,  if  well  wrought,  demands  immeas- 
urably more  ability  than  a  mere  biographical  nar- 
rative. Much  study  and  analysis  is  of  necessity 
involved.  A  few  central  ideas  must  first  be  hit  upon; 
then,  from  various  places  and  circumstances,  evidence 
must  be  extracted  to  demonstrate  their  truth  and  perti- 
nency. From  many  minor  events,  principles  of  action 
must  be  discovered;  discrimination  and  judgment 
must  be  used;  human  nature  must  be  read;  motives 
unraveled;  the  relation  of  the  subject  to  a  series  of 
events  made  certain.  But,  when  all  this  has  been 
accomplished,  the  result  justifies  the  amount  of  labor 
expended.  The  life,  touched  by  the  genius  of  the 
orator,  stands  out  luminously;  the  salient  deeds  are 
brought  forward  with  their  value  made  clear;  the  char- 
acter is  solved;  the  tribute  due  has  been  paid. 

In  the  treatment  of  nearly  every  eulogy  one  nice 
question  generally  arises,  of  which  it  may  be  well  to 
speak:  to  what  extent  should  the  weakness  of  char- 
acter and  the  untoward  events  of  a  life  have  place? 
The  tendency  of  all  men  's  naturally  in  the  opposite 
direction;  to  exaggerate  good  qualkies  and  to  say 
nothing  about  bad;  and  thus  the  fault  with  many  eulo- 
gies— the  French  tributes  of  the  seventeenth  century 
are  excellent  examples — is  that  they  are  fulsomely  in- 


30  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

discriminating;  characters  are  not  put  in  their  proper 
light,  judgments  are  far  from  judicious.  But  that 
such  ought  not  to  be  the  case  need  scarcely  be  said; 
there  is  no  justification  for  speaking,  if  it  is  necessary 
to  speak  lies.  Still,  one  must  hasten  to  admit  that  the 
eulogist  is  not  necessarily  the  biographer;  he  is  not 
bound  to  dwell  upon  the  events  of  a  life  with  undevi- 
ating  impartiality;  to  tell  of  all  the  vices  as  well  as  of 
all  the  virtues.  He  may  reasonably  choose  to  speak 
the  praises  of  a  life  as  he  saw  it,  where  the  good  much 
outweighed  the  evil.  The  eulogy  of  George  William 
Curtis  on  Wendell  Phillips  is  as  perfect  an  illustration 
of  the  point  before  us  as  there  is  in  modern  literature. 
In  the  later  years  of  Wendell  Phillips'  life  there  were 
many  things  of  which  so  temperate  and  conservative 
a  man  as  Mr.  Curtis  could  not  approve;  yet  he  was  not 
prevented  from  delivering  a  masterly  oration  on 
Phillips,  and  he  found  no  necessity  for  saying  anything 
that  he  could  not  believe.  The  orator  simply  laid 
stress  on  those  parts  of  the  career  for  which  he  had  the 
profoundest  reverence.  Weighing  the  gold  against 
the  dross,  he  found  the  former  overwhelmingly  pre- 
dominating, and  of  this  he  spoke.  The  example  is  one 
that  may  well  be  taken  for  a  model.  Fulsome,  indis- 
criminate praise  cannot  be  enduring  and  cannot  be 
too  heartily  condemned;  but  no  one,  because  human 
nature  is  not  perfect,  need  fear  to  speak  a  sincere 
tribute. 

THE  COMMEMORATIVE  ORATION. — Although  not  so 
embedded  in  classic  traditions  as  is  the  eulogy,  a  litera- 
ture replete  with  splendid  achievements  has  been  pro- 
duced by  commemorative  oratory.  In  our  own  coun- 
try, if  one  excepts  a  very  few  senatorial  speeches,  by 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  3! 

far  the  best  orations  of  the  century  belong  to  this 
type.  Equally  true  is  it  that,  in  the  published  works  of 
American  orators,  we  find  more  commemorative  ora- 
tions of  the  highest  rank  than  of  any  other  kind. 

The  purpose  of  commemorative  oratory  is  plainly  to 
distinguish  certain  events,  either  those  of  the  past  or 
those  of  the  present.  When  the  events  belong  to  the 
past,  some  anniversary  day  is  usually  the  time  for  re- 
calling them;  and  hence  the  oration  for  such  an  occa- 
sion may  be  designated  as  an  anniversary  oration. 
When  the  events  belong  to  the  present,  the  laying  of 
a  corner  stone,  the  dedication  of  a  building  or  monu- 
ment, or  some  like  incident,  furnishes  the  theme;  and 
then  the  effort  may  be  called  a  dedicatory  oration.  In 
the  selections  which  follow,  room  was  found  for  but 
one  of  these  types,  the  anniversary;  but  here  we  shall 
have  something  to  say  of  each. 

In  the  anniversary  oration,  what  is  most  essential 
is  the  bringing  out  clearly  of  the  events  to  be  com- 
memorated and  the  importance  of  these  events  in 
history.  Roughly  speaking,  three  methods,  some- 
what similar  to  those  noticed  under  the  eulogy,  are 
open.  In  the  first,  emphasis  is  thrown  on  the  events, 
simply  as  such;  in  the  second  emphasis  is  thrown  on 
the  importance  and  meaning  of  the  events ;  and  in  the 
last  each  of  these  points  of  view  is  touched  upon. 
When  the  first  method  is  followed,  the  qualifications 
demanded  from  the  speaker  are  a  rapid  style  and  a 
sense  for  the  order  and  proportion  of  incidents;  and 
about  the  best  thing  that  can  be  said  of  the  oration, 
when  it  is  delivered,  is  that  it  is  an  accurate,  entertain- 
ing narrative.  But  this  is  clearly  not  the  highest  ex- 
pression of  oratory.  No  chance  is  offered  for  the 


3»  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

analysis,  the  breadth  of  view,  and  the  imagination 
which  stamp  a  great  oration.  The  bulk  of  the  ma- 
terial presented  was  probably  to  be  found  in  a  good 
history  or  encyclopedia;  and  all  that  was  required  of 
the  speaker  was  the  diligence  to  hunt  it  out  and  put 
it  together.  Still,  when  the  incidents  themselves  are 
all  that  is  important,  as  might  be  the  case  in  a  battle 
upon  which  nothing  especially  turned;  or  when  they 
are  exceedingly  vivid  and  picturesque,  or  little  known, 
this  method  of  treatment  may  be  made  not  uninterest- 
ing or  uninstructive. 

In  the  second  method,  the  actual  events,  either  be- 
cause they  are  slight  or  because  they  are  perfectly 
familiar  to  the  audience,  play  but  a  small  part;  the  re- 
sults of  the  events,  their  importance  to  mankind,  these 
are  the  chief  topics  for  the  orator.  That  incident  in 
American  history  which  has  been  the  subject  of  more 
great  orations  than  any  other,  the  landing  of  the  Pil- 
grims, is  one  best  treated  in  this  manner.  To  be  sure, 
in  dealing  with  this  theme,  some  account  of  the  con- 
dition of  affairs  in  England,  the  sojourn  in  Holland, 
the  voyage  across,  and  the  landing,  might  and  often 
has  been  introduced;  but  the  greatness  of  the  subject 
lies  not  here;  it  is  rather  in  showing  the  value  of  the 
principles  compelling  these  events,  and  still  more, 
their  consequences.  This,  obviously,  too,  demands  a 
much  higher  order  of  intelligence  and  ability  than  the 
historical  sketch.  The  orator  must  be  a  political  phi- 
losopher, as  well  as  a  rhetorician  and  historian;  he 
must  see  things  in  a  large  perspective;  and  in  a  com- 
plexity of  conditions  he  must  be  able  to  detect  the 
cause  and  the  effect. 

Rarely,  however,  is  it  necessary  for  a  speaker  to 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  33 

deal  altogether  with  principles  and  results;  a  combina- 
tion of  narrative  and  reflection  is  usually  both  possible 
and  desirable.  When  this,  the  combination  of  the  two 
other  methods,  is  adopted,  the  first  part  of  the  oration 
is  given  over  to  recalling  the  incidents,  possibly  in  go- 
ing so  far  back  as  to  examine  the  causes  giving  rise 
to  them ;  and  the  last  to  the  lessons  to  be  drawn.  Both 
elements  then  have  place,  but  neither  has  undue 
prominence;  and  any  danger  of  the  oration  becoming 
a  philosophical  treatise  is  avoided.  The  narrative 
lends  spirit,  and  often  much  of  the  interest,  to  the  com- 
position; the  reflection  gives  it  weight  and  abiding 
value.  For  the  majority  of  occasions  calling  for  an 
anniversary  address,  this  plan  of  procedure  will  be 
found  most  suitable.  There  are  exceptions,  as  has 
been  noted;  but  this,  we  may  say,  is  the  normal 
type. 

In  many  respects  the  dedicatory  address  does  not 
differ  from  the  anniversary  address.  What  a  speaker 
would  say  at  the  dedication  of  a  monument  commemo- 
rating a  great  battle  would,  with  little  change,  be 
appropriate  at  a  celebration  of  the  anniversary  of  the 
same  battle.  Here  again,  it  is  what  happened  in  the 
past  rather  than  the  present  that  gives  the  event  its 
chief  significance.  There  are,  however,  dedicatory 
occasions  which  demand  another  form  of  speech  from 
anything  an  anniversary  might  call  forth ;  the  laying  of 
the  corner  stone  of  a  building  or  the  opening  of  an  ex- 
position are  occasions  in  point.  In  such  events  the  ora- 
tor must  look  around  him,  must  gather  from  the 
moment  his  inspiration.  What  is  the  meaning  of  the 
occasion ;  for  what  does  it  stand ;  are  its  results  likely  to 
be  far-reaching  in  consequence?  These  are  the  ques- 


34  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

tions  he  must  ask.  The  ability  to  see  the  real  sig- 
nificance of  movements  is  here  of  value.  Does  this 
mark  an  advance  in  our  civilization;  will  it  contribute 
definitely  to  the  good  of  humanity?  So  prophecy  also 
enters.  With  his  words  the  speaker  opens  vistas  into 
the  future;  he  interprets  for  his  hearers  what  they  do 
not  fully  understand.  Very  few  suggestions  more 
specific  than  this  can  be  laid  down  for  the  composition 
of  these  addresses.  The  time  and  circumstance  of 
each  occasion  provide  the  orator  with  his  general  line 
of  thought;  his  own  skill  and  imagination  must  be  his 
guide  for  the  rest. 

Just  a  word  of  caution  in  regard  to  commemorative 
orations  of  both  kinds  may  now  be  added.  Nearly 
every  address  of  this  sort  demands  that  the  speaker 
shall  deal  with  facts — generally,  as  we  have  seen, 
with  historical  facts.  For  the  sake  of  antithesis,  or  the 
clever  turning  of  a  sentence,  the  temptation  is  often 
great  to  sacrifice  absolute  truth  and  accuracy.  Again, 
the  broad,  unfounded  generalization  seems  to  appeal 
to  the  taste  of  many  speakers.  But  the  inclination 
which  makes  use  of  either  of  these  expedients  for  the 
lack  of  better  is  in  error.  Exaggeration  can  never 
be  truly  sententious;  generalities  do  not  necessarily 
give  breadth  to  a  theme.  Any  stump  speaker  can 
make  statements  novel  and  astounding,  and,  until  a 
bit  of  reflection  discovers  their  speciousness,  perhaps 
effective.  The  true  orator  does  aim  for  picturesque, 
impelling  sentences,  but  for  truthful  ones;  and  when 
he  indulges  in  generalization,  it  is  founded  on  fact  and 
experience.  Both  of  these  errors  are  present  to  an 
unconscionable  degree  in  what  is  known  as  college 
oratory.  Speakers  mistake  the  tinsel  for  the  gold: 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  35 

their  productions  would  be  valuable  if  they  meant 
anything  and  were  founded  on  fact;  but  for  the  most 
part  they  are  not.  No  more  praiseworthy  or  reason- 
able piece  of  advice  can  be  given  to  the  youthful 
speaker  than  to  caution  him  to  weigh  carefully  the 
exactness  of  what  he  says. 

THE  PLATFORM  ORATION. — The  term  platform  ora- 
tion is  little  more  than  an  arbitrary  head,  under  which 
various  types  of  demonstrative  oratory  that  admit  of 
no  more  accurate  classification  may  be  discussed. 
The  popular  lecture,  the  commencement  address,  the 
address  before  literary  or  scientific  bodies,  and  the  like, 
are  the  types  referred  to.  Such  orations,  so  far  as 
their  subject-matter  goes,  have  very  little  in  common; 
they  are  grouped  together  only  because  their  end  or 
object,  which  is  to  provide  entertainment,  or  at  best, 
to  offer  information  in  a  casual  way,  is  somewhat  the 
same. 

In  the  period  before  the  War,  through  the  lyceum 
system,  then  so  popular,  the  platform  oration  was  an 
exceedingly  powerful  factor  in  molding  public  opin- 
ion and  in  educating  rural  communities.  No  city  or 
town  of  any  size  was  continuously  without  a  lecture 
course,  to  which  some  of  the  excellent  speakers  of  the 
time, — Phillips,  Curtis,  Emerson,  Beecher,  John  B. 
Gough,  or  other  men  only  less  notable, — did  not  con- 
tribute. With  the  settling  after  the  War,  however, 
of  many  burning  topics  of  controversy,  and  with  the 
inundation  of  newspaper  and  magazine  literature,  the 
lyceum  departed;  the  intermittent  addresses  delivered 
now  during  the  winter  months  by  professional  lectur- 
ers reflect  only  a  suggestion  of  its  former  popularity. 
Still,  though  the  chief  avenue  of  expression  has  been 


$6  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

closed,  the  value  and  necessity  for  such  speaking  re- 
main. In  the  demands  of  commencement  season,  in 
the  custom  of  Phi  Beta  Kappa  societies  of  listening  to 
an  address  each  year,  in  the  plan  of  such  institutions  as 
Chautauqua,  there  exists  abundant  incentive  for  study 
and  accomplishment  in  platform  oratory. 

In  one  important  respect  the  platform  oration  dif- 
fers from  any  other  of  which  we  have  so  far  spoken; 
it  is  usually  upon  no  prescribed  topic.  The  delibera- 
tive orator  speaks  on  the  motion  before  the  house;  the 
forensic  orator  on  the  case  on  trial ;  the  themes  of  the 
eulogist  and  anniversary  orator  are  also  prescribed; 
but,  without  much  exception,  the  platform  speaker 
may  choose  his  own  subject.  At  first  this  may  seem 
to  be  a  matter  of  no  great  consequence;  but  in  reality 
it  is,  for  the  selection  of  the  best  thing  on  which  to 
speak  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  problems.  In 
some  cases,  to  be  sure,  a  subject  may  be  suggested 
and  a  lecture  prepared  without  any  definite  idea  as  to 
the  uses  to  which  it  may  be  put;  but  more  often  a 
speaker  is  asked  to  address  a  certain  audience  at  a 
stated  time,  and  for  this  occasion  he  must  prepare. 

What  subject,  then,  shall  he  choose?  Life  and  litera- 
ture are  full  of  interesting  questions,  but  not  all  of 
them,  indeed  but  a  very  few  of  them,  are  appropriate. 
Why  all  are  not  appropriate  is  because  the  range  of 
topics  to  which  any  audience  can  listen  agreeably  at 
a  given  time  is  limited.  The  first  duty  of  the  speaker, 
therefore,  is  to  find  out  precisely  to  whom  he  is  to 
speak,  for,  unless  he  does  this,  he  has  no  surety  that 
his  address  will  have  the  slightest  relevancy  or  perti- 
nency. He  must  ascertain  the  character,  the  educa- 
tion, and  the  discernment  of  his  hearers;  and  also 


Tff£   TtiEOKY  OF  ORATORY.  37 

under  what  circumstances  they  will  have  been  brought 
together;  then  he  can  proceed  intelligently.  And  in 
the  final  choice  of  his  topic  he  will  probably  be  gov- 
erned more  than  by  anything  else  by  two  conditions: 
first,  that  his  subject  shall  be  one  of  interest  to  his 
audience;  and  second,  that  it  shall  be  adapted  to  the 
occasion. 

Most  important  of  all  is  it  that  a  subject  shall  be 
interesting.  Interest,  however,  is  an  exceedingly 
variable  quantity;  what  is  interesting  at  one  time  is  not 
at  another;  what  is  absorbing  to  one  man  is  not  to  a 
second.  An  educational  topic  which  would  entertain 
a  college  assembly  would  fill  the  office  of  the  manager 
of  a  popular  lecture  course  with  indignant  patrons; 
what  is  important  in  November  may  be  dead  by  the 
following  March.  All  this,  although  universally 
recognized  by  speakers,  is  not  universally  followed. 
Audiences  are  bored  by  most  inappropriate  themes; 
they  are  told  to  do  things  they  never  had  any  idea  of 
rot  doing ;  and  they  are  given  information  about  which 
they  care  absolutely  nothing.  Indeed,  too  much  em- 
phasis cannot  be  laid  upon  this  point :  that  the  utmost 
care  should  be  expended  by  the  speaker  in  discovering 
exactly  what  his  audience  will  be  interested  in. 

It  is,  however,  true  that  a  topic  in  which  an  audi- 
ence has  abstractly  little  interest,  may  yet  prove  an 
excellent  one  for  an  address.  Such  is  the  case  where 
the  speaker  is  an  authority  or  expert  in  a  special  line 
of  work.  For  instance,  the  influence  of  the  moon  on 
tides  might  not  be  an  especially  diverting  subject  to 
people  of  unscientific  minds;  yet  just  such  people 
might  be  very  eager  to  hear  a  talk  on  this  question  by 
one  who  had  spent  his  whole  life  and  gained  great 


38  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

reputation  in  studying  it.  This  idea  is  simply  an  ex- 
tension of  the  familiar  aphorism  that  every  man  can  be 
entertaining  on  one  subject.  So,  before  browsing  be- 
yond, a  speaker  may  well  look  within  to  see  if  he  is 
not  master  of  some  field  which  for  him  would  be  more 
appropriate  than  any  other.  All  this,  too,  has  espe- 
cial adaptation  for  young  speakers.  In  spite  of  the 
epithets  flung  back  in  its  behalf,  youth  has  great  dis- 
advantages. A  student  may  be  better  informed  on  a 
public  question  than  a  congressman,  but  the  latter  will 
get  the  invitation  to  speak;  what  a  man  may  be  ex- 
pected to  know  weighs  heavily.  Recently  a  young 
student  who  had  gained  considerable  reputation  as  a 
speaker,  was  asked,  with  a  number  of  distinguished 
men,  to  respond  to  a  toast  of  his  own  selection  at  a 
banquet  held  on  the  birthday  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 
Had  he  chosen  to  speak  of  Lincoln's  political  career, 
he  would  have  been  listened  to  with  courtesy,  but,  by 
men  who  knew  from  experience  the  facts  which  he 
related  from  histories,  hardly  with  interest.  He  chose 
rather  as  his  subject,  "  Lincoln  as  a  master  of  Eng- 
lish style,"  and  scored  the  chief  success  of  the  even- 
ing. This  was  the  one  theme  about  which  he  not  only 
knew  more  than  his  hearers,  but  about  which  they  all 
realized  he  could  know  more.  So,  in  a  broader  field, 
no  man  ought  to  have  any  difficulty  in  commanding 
attention  when  he  speaks  on  a  topic  in  which  the 
world  acknowledges  his  authority. 

Another  quality  that  a  topic  must  have  is  adapta- 
bility; that  it  shall  be  in  itself  interesting  is  not 
enough;  it  must  be  suited  to  the  occasion,  and, 
furthermore,  susceptible  of  just  the  treatment  re- 
quired. A  subject  which  would  be  appropriate 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  39 

in  one  place  might  be  very  ill-fitted  for  an- 
other, although  the  same  audience  were  assem- 
bled; and  a  subject  which  would  make  an  excel- 
lent magazine  article  might  be  wholly  impossible  for 
an  oration.  Following  the  last  thought,  we  can  see 
how  such  a  question  as  Realism  and  Idealism  in 
Literature,  although  a  thoroughly  vital  one  to  each 
person  of  an  audience,  would  hardly  do  for  a  great 
oration.  On  the  other  hand,  "  The  importance  of  illus- 
trating New  England  history  by  a  series  of  romances  " 
furnished  the  text  of  one  of  Rufus  Choate's  best- 
known  speeches.  Both  of  these  are  literary  topics, 
but  they  are  very  different;  one  is  subtle,  the  other  is 
open;  one  deals  with  fine  distinctions  and  carefully 
spun  hypotheses;  the  other  with  facts  that  can  with 
very  little  difficulty  be  made  intelligible.  The  general 
conclusion  to  be  drawn  is  that  a  question  to  be  suit- 
able for  an  oral  address  must  be  capable  of  being 
treated  along  broad,  easily  comprehended  lines;  it 
must  not  require  overdefinition  or  too  nice  discrimina- 
tion, for,  if  it  does,  it  probably  cannot  be  followed. 

The  last  few  observations  lead  us  naturally  to  a 
brief  statement  of  the  structure  of  the  platform  ora- 
tion. In  this  kind  of  a  speech  the  introduction  is  of 
considerable  importance.  It  may  show  why  the  ques- 
tion has  been  chosen,  why  it  is  of  interest,  and  why  a 
discussion  of  it  at  that  time  is  particularly  desirable. 
Then  will  follow  whatever  explanation  is  necessary 
in  regard  to  the  subject  and  its  meaning;  that 
is,  the  definition  of  the  terms.  This  definition,  how- 
ever mechanical  it  may  seem,  should  never  be  omit- 
ted if  there  can  be  the  slightest  doubt  in  the  mind  of  a 
single  listener  as  to  just  how  the  subject  is  to  be  taken; 


40  THE   THEORY  Of  ORATORY. 

accurate  definition  may  prevent  a  part  or  the  whole 
of  an  address  from  being  vague  or  positively  mis- 
understood. The  terms  having  been  made  clear,  the 
general  method  of  treatment  should  then  be  set  forth. 
This  may  be  accomplished  by  a  formal  partition,  or  it 
may  not;  but  the  point  of  view  that  the  speaker  is  to 
adopt  may  well  be  stated.  A  little  extra  care  at  the 
outset  to  put  one's  hearers  on  the  right  track  is  always 
repaid  tenfold  in  the  lucidity  that  results.  The  dis- 
cussion proper,  that  is,  the  body  of  the  oration,  follows 
these  preliminary  statements.  Here  the  plan  pre- 
viously announced,  or,  at  least,  carefully  determined 
upon  by  the  speaker,  must  be  rigorously  carried  out. 
There  must  be  no  aimless  wandering  from  point  to 
point,  as  the  thought  of  the  moment  may  suggest.  A 
few  central  ideas  must  underlie  the  whole  speech ;  and 
all  the  incidents  and  details  that  are  used  must  bear 
directly  on  some  one  of  them.  Care  should  also  be 
taken  not  to  introduce  too  many  ideas  or  propositions. 
The  ends  of  speaking  are  much  better  served,  and  the 
results  much  greater,  if  the  mind  of  an  audience  is  not 
overtaxed. 

THE  AFTER-DINNER  ADDRESS. — That  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  after-dinner  speaking  no  one  can  profit- 
ably undertake  to  deny;  but  that  there  is  much  after- 
dinner  oratory  is  far  from  certain.  The  difference 
between  the  two  is  that  between  a  good  play  and  a 
bad  burlesque.  As  it  is  commonly  practiced,  after- 
dinner  speaking  is  inane,  useless,  and  frequently 
degrading.  The  greatest  reputation  for  skill  in  the 
art  seems  to  go  to  the  man  who  can  speak  without 
touching  his  toast  for  a  sober  moment,  and  who,  with 
most  perfect  incoherence,  can  join  together  a  string  of 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  4 1 

stories.  The  inexplicable  part  of  the  custom  is,  too, 
that  no  one  enjoys  it.  The  speakers,  unless  they  be 
thoroughly  hardened  offenders,  lose  the  pleasure  of  the 
dinner  in  anxiety;  while  most  of  the  guests  are  insuf- 
ferably bored,  both  in  the  expectation  and  in  the 
endurance  of  the  season  of  nonsense  extending  far 
into  the  next  morning.  Fortunately,  as  the  reputation 
for  wit  is  the  most  dangerous  that  any  speaker  can 
have,  few  men  of  real  ability  are  successful  in 
this  line.  Indeed,  if  we  had  nothing  more  than 
the  typical  concoction  of  the  famous  after-dinner 
speaker  to  consider,  there  would  be  no  need  of  a  para- 
graph on  this  subject  here. 

There  is,  however,  a  kind  of  after-dinner  oratory 
well  worth  serious  treatment.  Such  orations  (perhaps 
they  had  better  be  termed  speeches)  are  called  forth 
generally  at  occasions  of  two  sorts — at  dinners  given 
in  honor  of  some  distinguished  foreign  or  national 
guest,  or  at  those  which  celebrate  a  notable  event, 
either  of  the  past  or  of  the  present.  Of  speeches  suit- 
able for  occasions  of  the  first  kind  not  much  need  be 
said.  Elegance  and  affability  of  manner,  courtesy, 
and  a  nicely  discriminating  taste  are  more  essential 
to  them  than  ideas.  Though  the  range  of  topics 
which  may  be  introduced  is  wide,  the  chief  purpose  is 
the  pleasant  felicitation  of  the  stranger.  Edward 
Everett,  who  did  nearly  everything  in  demonstrative 
oratory  as  well  as  other  men  have  done  special  things, 
has  several  addresses  of  this  sort,  well  worth  perusal 
as  models  of  graceful,  cultivated  speech. 

The  other — the  anniversary  occasion — is  both  more 
common  (the  birthdays  of  Washington,  Lincoln,  and 
Grant,  and  the  22d  of  December  at  once  suggest  them- 


42  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

selves),  and  also  requires  remarks  of  more  substance 
and  weight.  For  such  occasions  the  speaker  is  some- 
times permitted  to  select  the  sentiment  to  which  he 
will  respond,  sometimes  the  choice  is  not  left  to  him. 
But,  whichever  way  the  subject  comes,  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  his  speech  certain  definite  rules  can  be  followed 
to  great  advantage.  As  the  address  must  be  very 
brief,  ten  minutes  being  none  too  short,  only  one  or 
two  ideas  are  necessary;  these,  however,  must  be 
original  and  striking.  It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  find 
something  fresh  in  a  subject  already  dredged  by  hun- 
dreds of  men  bent  on  the  same  quest;  yet  diligent 
effort  can  usually  discover,  if  not  a  new  point,  at  least 
a  new  way  of  looking  at  an  old  one.  And  this  should 
be  made  the  theme  of  the  speech. 

Just  as  much,  or  even  more  care,  must  be  spent  in 
the  method  of  statement.  The  whole  effort  must  be 
as  free  and  spontaneous  as  it  possibly  can  be.  Of 
course  this  does  not  mean  that  there  should  be  no 
premeditation  or  preparation;  the  material  for  an 
after-dinner  speech  should  be  worked  over  with  as 
much  thoroughness  as  that  for  any  other;  but  the 
lucubration  must  not  be  evident.  The  opening  sen- 
tences should  take  their  form  easily  from  the  introduc- 
tory words  of  the  toastmaster,  or  else  they  should  con- 
tain some  sprightly  reference  to  the  occasion;  the 
whole  introduction,  in  fact,  should  be  light  and  airy, 
and  even  a  tactful  anecdote  may  be  made  to  serve  as 
a  sop  to  the  inveterate  custom  of  story-telling.  But 
not  much  time  can  thus  be  spent.  As  soon  as  practi- 
cable the  speaker  must  come  to  the  purpose  of  his 
speech,  his  point.  This  he  should  make  clearly  and 
forcibly,  with  a  few  carefully  chosen  illustrations  and 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  43 

bits  of  evidence;  and  then  he  should  sit  down.  Clear, 
vigorous  work,  brought  to  a  speedy  conclusion,  is  the 
summnm  bonum.  Yet  the  speech  must  be  brisk  with- 
out being  hurried;  forceful  without  being  aggressive. 
The  speaker  must  not  forget  that  his  purpose  is  to 
please  rather  than  to  proselytize,  and  that  charm  of 
manner  and  felicity  of  phrase  are  quite  as  necessary  as 
the  compelling  idea. 

After-dinner  speaking  has  always  been  popular  in 
this  country,  and  from  anything  one  can  see  now,  is 
likely  to  continue  to  be.  Although,  as  it  is  commonly 
meted  out,  it  is  intolerably  silly,  it  does,  sometimes, 
offer  a  chance  to  say  things  of  the  utmost  value.  The 
speech  printed  in  this  volume  is  a  striking  example. 
So,  as  long  as  the  opportunities  of  the  orator  are  so 
few  as  they  are  now,  and  so  long  as  the  people  who  are 
compelled  to  go  to  dinners  do  not  rise  in  their  might, 
there  seems  little  sense  in  anyone's  wasting  strength 
in  denouncing  the  custom. 


VI.    PULPIT  ORATORY. 

Of  the  various  forms  of  oratory  which  we  have  to 
consider,  the  last  is  that  of  the  pulpit,  the  oratory  of 
the  Christian  Church.  Unlike  any  of  the  foregoing 
divisions,  pulpit  oratory  rests  on  no  classic  models,  and 
is  the  subject  of  no  ancient  treatises;  but  its  history  is 
studded  with  great  names  and  it  has  a  literature  both 
brilliant  and  voluminous.  Beginning  with  Christ- 
ianity, the  pulpit  has  been  the  chief  means  by  which 
the  dogma  of  the  Church  has  been  propagated  and 
disseminated  throughout  the  world.  Reckoning,  too, 


44  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

simply  by  the  amount  of  attention  paid  to  it  both  by 
speakers  and  by  audiences,  this  is  probably  the  most 
important  of  the  forms  of  public  speaking  practiced 
to-day. 

The  history  of  pulpit  oratory  begins  with  the  apos- 
tles, the  greatest  of  whom,  in  this  as  in  other  respects, 
was  undoubtedly  St.  Paul.  Then  follow  the  Greek 
and  Roman  patristic  orators,  among  them  Augustine 
and  Chrysostom,  all  in  all,  perhaps,  the  most  gifted 
body  of  men  that  the  Church  has  produced.  During 
the  Middle  Ages,  when  all  learning  was  in  abeyance 
except  that  nurtured  by  ecclesiastical  bodies,  the  pul- 
pit alone  kept  alive  the  oratorical  culture  of  the  past. 
Later,  in  the  same  period,  stand  out  the  preachers  of 
the  Crusades,  who,  for  the  mighty  torrent  which  they 
set  in  motion,  deserve  to  be  accounted  among  the 
very  highest  masters  of  persuasive  eloquence  of  all 
times.  The  Reformation  is  another  great  event  of  his- 
tory which  may  safely  be  ascribed  to  the  influence  of 
the  pulpit;  Savonarola,  Luther,  Calvin,  Latimer,  John 
Knox,  accomplished  what  they  did  chiefly  through  the 
medium  of  spoken  words.  In  modern  times,  the 
French  prelates  have  been  possibly  the  most  famous; 
although  in  our  own  country  and  in  Great  Britain  the 
sermon  has  always  been  much  cultivated,  and,  as  has 
been  said,  is  perhaps  the  most  popular  form  of  public 
speech  now  engaged  in. 

When  we  pause  to  consider  of  what  institution 
pulpit  oratory  is  the  exponent,  and  its  place  in  that 
institution,  this  history  does  not  seem  any  more  re- 
markable than  might  be  expected.  After  govern- 
ment itself,  no  factor  in  human  affairs  is  so  impor- 
tant as  the  Church,  none  concerns  so  many  people  in 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  45 

so  essential  a  way;  and  in  the  Church  more  prominent 
than  any  other  feature  is  the  sermon.  The  sermon  is 
the  chief  means  for  promulgating  the  faith;  the  sub- 
stantial reason  why  men  assemble  each  Sunday;  the 
nucleus  around  which  all  other  worship  converges. 
Cause  therefore  exists  why  the  sermon  should  have 
been  so  diligently  studied  in  the  past,  and  why  preach- 
ing should  have  been  so  effective  in  history.  In 
no  other  profession  is  theie  so  much  real  incentive  to 
excel  in  oratory  as  in  the  ministry.  A  man  may  be- 
come a  statesman  without  being  an  orator,  a  lawyer 
without  being  an  advocate;  but  he  cannot  well  be  a 
successful  minister  without  being  a  preacher. 

There  are,  furthermore,  certain  great  advantages 
which  the  pulpit  orator  has  over  other  speakers.  The 
themes  which  he  treats  are,  for  the  audience  he  ad- 
dresses, paramount  to  any  other;  they  deal  not  with 
aesthetic  appreciation,  or  with  earthly  rights,  but  with 
the  most  momentous  questions  of  human  conduct  and 
a  future  life.  The  building  in  which  he  speaks  is  espe- 
cially adapted  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  used.  In 
a  material  way  the  acoustics  and  the  seating  arrange- 
ments are  as  nearly  perfect  as  they  can  be  made;  no 
inclement  weather  or  ill-lighted  auditorium  can  lessen 
the  effect  of  the  discourse.  In  a  higher  sense,  the 
stained  windows,  the  music,  the  decorations  of  the 
chancel  add  spirituality  and  reverence  to  the  scene. 
In  addition  to  this,  the  preacher  knows  just  when,  un- 
der what  circumstances,  and  to  whom  he  will  make  his 
address.  No  one  can  take  his  time  or  interrupt  him, 
and  nothing  can  happen  to  vex  or  make  impatient  his 
congregation.  In  short,  nearly  every  condition  which 
makes  up  two  of  the  three  essentials  of  oratory — the 


46  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

subject  and  the  occasion — the  pulpit  orator  has  at  his 
command. 

The  fact  is  therefore  inexplicable  to  the  student  of 
public  speaking  why  sermons  are  usually  so  bad  as 
thsy  are.  Few,  however,  who  have  taken  the  trouble 
to  observe  with  much  thoroughness  will  deny  that 
such  is  the  case;  that  sermons  are  in  general  bad. 
Sunday  after  Sunday  congregations  listen  to  thought- 
less, structureless,  carelessly  composed  discourses 
which  would  be  tolerated  by  no  other  audiences  in  the 
universe.  Nor  is  reference  here  made  to  the  preach- 
ing of  clergymen  in  the  smaller  towns.  The  truth  is 
that  in  no  other  profession  does  so  little  discrepancy 
exist  between  the  ability  of  the  better  and  the  less- 
known  men,  as  in  the  ministry,  and  that  one  is  almost 
as  likely  to  hear  a  well-wrought  sermon  in  a  small 
town  as  in  Boston,  New  York,  or  Chicago.  It  is  to 
the  ministers  who  hold  the  important  charges,  who 
preach  to  the  most  cultivated  people,  that  the  stric- 
ture applies  with  the  greatest  force.  These  men 
standing  at  the  head,  the  historic  successors  of  Paul 
and  Gregory,  of  Athanasius  and  Chrysostom,  of  Peter 
and  Bernard,  in  an  age  when  skepticism  is  so  fast 
multiplying  as  to  provoke  the  most  powerful  and  im- 
passioned utterance,  cause  by  their  weekly  homilies 
hardly  a  ripple  in  the  great  tide  of  the  best  human 
thought. 

One  answer  in  explanation  of  this  condition  is  often 
made  and  is  not  without  some  pertinency:  that  a 
clergyman  in  endeavoring  to  prepare  each  week  two 
sermons,  and  sometimes  more,  undertakes  what  no 
other  speaker  would  think  of  attempting.  Granting 
the  assistance  to  be  derived  from  commentaries,  from 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  47 

a  familiar  subject,  and  from  a  fund  of  old  material, 
this  is  an  almost  superhuman  task.  Very  few  men  in- 
deed— even  those  with  the  greatest  fecundity  of 
thought — can  make  ideas  worth  listening  to  so  rapidly; 
few,  given  all  their  matter,  can  arrange  and  digest  it 
in  so  short  a  space  as  one  week.  What  wonder  is  it 
then,  people  say,  that  the  preacher  is  dull  and  jejune; 
how  can  he  be  expected,  besides  attending  many  meet- 
ings and  making  innumerable  calls,  to  reflect  long 
enough  to  present  something  fresh  and  original  each 
Sunday? 

The  retort  is  perfectly  well  taken ;  and  yet  it  does  not 
destroy  the  criticism  that  sermons  are  bad  when,  for 
the  importance  of  the  cause  and  the  dignity  of  the 
Church,  they  ought  to  be  good.  Rather,  the  reply 
should  turn  attention  to  the  remedy  which  lies  near  at 
hand.  This  remedy  is  undoubtedly  in  the  general 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  one  good  sermon  is  of  more 
account  than  three  poor  ones;  and  that  a  minister  had 
much  better  limit  himself  to  a  single  effort  each  month 
than  to  deliver  half  a  dozen  ill-conceived  and  badly 
stated.  For  the  other  services,  the  advice  may  well  be 
adopted  of  Dr.  Parker  of  London,  who  urged  that 
when  two  meetings  were  held  on  Sunday,  at  one  of 
them  the  sermon  of  some  great  pulpit  orator  of  the 
past  should  be  read.  Not  only  would  the  minister 
thus  gain  opportunity  to  make  his  own  work  better, 
but  the  minds  of  his  congregation  would,  of  necessity, 
be  broadened,  refined,  and  illuminated,  by  hearing  the 
words  of  a  great  man,  who  otherwise  would  be  quite 
unknown  to  them. 

Turning  now  to  speak  more  specifically  of  the  faults 
in  sermons,  we  may  say  that,  in  general,  there  are  three 


48  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

which  stand  out  more  prominently  than  others:  inco- 
herent structure,  lack  of  adaptability  to  the  audiences 
to  which  they  are  addressed,  and  assertiveness. 

The  necessity  and  value  of  clear,  well-defined  struc- 
ture have  been  brought  out  above,  more  than  once. 
It  has  been  insisted  that  all  spoken  discourses  must  be 
built  on  a  plan;  that  a  few  fundamental  ideas  must 
underlie  every  speech,  and  that  all  that  is  said  must 
bear  directly  on  them ;  that  because  of  the  much  greater 
difficulty  of  comprehending,  when  it  is  spoken,  what 
would  be  easily  intelligible  in  print,  the  plan,  struc- 
ture, and  arrangement  of  a  speech  must  always  be 
easily  discernible  to  the  hearer.  So  much  has  been 
stated  and  insisted  upon  before.  There  is,  however, 
because  of  the  peculiar  liability  of  sermons  to  err  in 
this  way,  good  reason  for  once  more  returning  to  the 
topic.  A  large  proportion  of  the  sermons  that  one 
hears  seem  to  be  built  according  to  the  scheme  once 
propounded  to  the  writer  by  a  leading  clergyman  in 
one  of  the  largest  cities  of  the  country.  He  said  that 
his  rule  was  to  place  before  himself  so  many  sheets  of 
paper;  as  many  as  would  fill  the  allotted  time  when 
delivered;  and  then  to  write  until  his  paper  was  ex- 
hausted. Wherever  the  momentary  thought  or  im- 
pulse directed  such  a  man,  there,  without  the  slightest 
regard  to  the  relevancy  of  the  idea,  his  hearers  on  the 
following  Sunday  would  be  led;  and  the  progress  of 
his  composition  might  be  indicated  by  a  series  of 
scratch  marks,  darting  hither  and  yon  over  vast  areas, 
without  reason  or  logical  connection.  The  chief  ob- 
jection to  such  work  is  that  it  can  make  no  lasting 
impression.  Each  sentence,  as  it  is  uttered,  is  a  uni- 
fied and  comprehensible  whole;  but  the  total  effect  is 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  49 

blurred  and  indistinct.  There  are  no  general  divisions 
in  which  the  ideas  may  be  stored  away;  no  conception 
of  the  theme  as  a  whole ;  and  hence  no  lasting  effect. 
Such  is,  however,  possibly  the  most  common  fault  of 
sermons  to-day. 

The  seriousness  of  the  second  difficulty,  the  lack  of 
adaptability  of  sermons  to  the  audiences  to  which  they 
are  addressed,  has  also  been  spoken  of  before,  in  not- 
ing, under  the  head  of  platform  oratory,  the  impor- 
tance of  choosing  suitable  topics  for  orations.  In- 
stead of  analyzing,  as  he  should  do  in  every  case,  the 
real  needs  and  the  exact  attitude  of  his  audience,  the 
pulpit  speaker  frequently  seems  to  give  himself  no 
concern  about  the  applicability  of  what  he  says.  We 
find  sins  denounced  which  do  not  remotely  tempt  a 
single  person  in  a  congregation,  while  questions  which 
daily  vex  and  perplex  life  are  left  untouched;  or,  as  a 
basis  for  a  sermon,  a  point  of  view  or  a  dogma  is 
assumed  which  by  no  means  all  are  disposed  to  ad- 
mit without  question.  The  result  is  that  words  so 
carelessly  directed  make  little  impression;  they  fly 
either  above  or  below,  but  they  do  not  hit  the  mark; 
they  carry  no  conviction.  The  minister  is  surprised 
that  his  congregations  go  to  sleep,  or  fumble  their 
watches  and  read  hymns.  But  why  should  they  not? 
His  comment  does  not  touch  their  troubles  and  weak- 
nesses, so  why  should  he  be  attended  to?  And  thus, 
in  a  great  measure,  the  purpose  of  his  teaching  is  lost. 

The  third  fault,  not  so  prominent  as  the  other  two. 
but  still  well  worth  mentioning,  is  the  tendency  which 
preachers  have  to  make  assertive,  unfounded  state- 
ments. The  fact  that  no  one  can  contradict  or  con- 
fute the  pulpit  orator  is  not  an  unmixed  blessing;  foi 


50  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

it  leads,  unless  much  caution  is  observed,  into  care- 
lessness in  the  treatment  of  a  subject.  Constantly 
most  extraordinary  asseverations  are  heard  in  the  pul- 
pit for  which  no  evidence  is  presented,  and  which, 
therefore,  produce  no  belief.  To  be  sure  one  cannot 
reasonably  demand  that  such  elaborate  proof  shall  be 
offered  to  a  congregation  as  is  given  to  a  court  of  law ; 
yet  when  a  man  addresses  intelligent  people,  either  in 
or  outside  a  church,  he  has  to  remember  that  affirma- 
tions, beyond  the  special  field  in  which  he  is  an  ex- 
pert, carry  no  substantial  assent.  Much  better  is  it, 
instead  of  asking  an  audience  to  accept  unsupported 
conclusions,  to  show  the  reasoning  by  which  those 
conclusions  have  been  arrived  at;  and,  when 
thoughts  and  facts  are  cited  on  a  point,  to  indicate  the 
value  of  the  sources.  Care  of  this  sort  in  no  way  de- 
tracts from  the  dignity  or  authority  of  the  Gospel; 
but  it  places  a  sermon  on  the  same  ground  with  other 
scholarly  work,  and  gives  it,  in  the  minds  of  thought- 
ful persons,  much  more  weight  and  importance. 

Constructively,  what  the  sermon  should  contain, 
what  the  different  parts  are  and  their  relation  to  each 
other,  the  place  of  the  text  and  its  treatment — all  these 
topics,  too  vast  and  technical  for  discussion  here,  must 
be  left  to  special  treatises  on  homiletics.  But,  before 
turning  to  another  part  of  our  subject,  it  may  possibly 
be  well  to  summarize  here  briefly  the  admirable  rules 
which  Dr.  Blair,  wfio  treats  this  division  of  oratory 
more  suggestively  than  any  other  rhetorical  writer, 
lays  down  in  respect  to  the  sermon.  The  first  point 
that  he  makes, — that  a  sermon  should  have  unity, — 
meaning  by  this  "  that  there  should  be  one  main  point 
to  which  the  whole  strain  of  the  sermon  should  refer," 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  SI 

has  already  been  dwelt  upon  very  fully.  But  Dr. 
Blair's  words  are  well  worth  adding.  He  says,  "  It 
[the  sermon]  must  not  be  a  bundle  of  different  sub- 
jects strung  together,  but  one  object  must  predominate 
throughout.  This  rule  is  founded  on  what  we  call 
experience,  that  the  mind  can  fully  attend  only  to  one 
capital  object  at  a  time.  By  dividing,  you  always 
weaken  the  impression.  Now  this  unity,  without 
which  no  sermon  can  either  have  much  beauty  or 
much  force,  does  not  require  that  there  should  be  no 
divisions  or  separate  heads  in  the  discourse,  or  that 
one  single  thought  only  should  be,  again  and  again, 
turned  up  to  the  hearers  in  different  lights.  It  is  not 
to  be  understood  in  so  narrow  a  sense;  it  admits  of 
some  variety;  it  admits  of  under  parts  and  appen- 
dages, provided  always  that  so  much  union  and  con- 
nection be  observed,  as  to  make  the  whole  concur  in 
some  one  impression  upon  the  mind." 

The  second  point  Blair  urges  is  that  sermons  are 
always  the  more  striking  and  useful,  the  more  pre- 
cise and  particular  is  theft  subject.  General  subjects 
are  often  chosen  by  young  preachers  as  the  most 
showy,  and  the  easiest  to  be  handled,  but,  because  they 
lead  almost  inevitably  into  commonplaces,  they  are 
not  the  most  serviceable  for  producing  the  high 
effects  of  preaching.  "  Attention,"  the  writer  de- 
clares, "  is  much  more  commanded  by  seizing  some 
particular  view  of  a  great  subject,  some  single  interest- 
ing topic,  and  directing  to  that  point  the  whole  force 
of  argument  and  eloquence.  To  recommend  some 
one  grace  or  virtue,  or  to  inveigh  against  a  particular 
vice,  furnishes  a  subject  not  deficient  in  unity  or  pre- 
cision; but  if  we  confine  ourselves  to  that  virtue  or 


$2  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

vice  as  assuming  a  particular  aspect,  and  consider  it  as 
it  appears  in  certain  characters,  or  affects  certain  situa- 
tions in  life,  the  subject  becomes  still  more  in- 
teresting." 

The  third  suggestion  is  that  a  preacher  should 
never  study  to  say  all  that  can  be  said  upon  a  topic; 
and  the  fourth,  that,  above  all  things,  a  sermon  should 
be  interesting.  No  error  is  greater  than  the  attempt 
to  cover  in  half  an  hour  all  the  ideas  which  centuries 
have  associated  with  a  subject.  In  place  of  this  the 
most  useful  and  persuasive  thoughts  that  a  text  sug- 
gests should  be  selected,  and  to  these  the  discourse 
should  be  devoted.  Some  things  may  be  taken  for 
granted;  and  some  must  be  touched  upon  lightly;  but 
if  nothing  that  a  subject  may  suggest  is  omitted,  the 
treatment  is  certain  to  be  cursory  and  extremely 
superficial. 

The  point  about  interest,  too,  is  excellently  well 
taken.  "  A  dry  sermon  can  never  be  a  good  one." 
And  the  only  way  that  this  interest  can  be  secured  is 
by  observing  the  caution  already  made:  that  the  ad- 
dress be  adapted  especially  to  the  audience  which  must 
listen  to  it.  In  this  respect  Dr.  Blair  observes  that 
"  It  will  be  of  much  advantage  to  keep  always  in 
view  the  different  ages,  characters,  and  conditions 
of  men,  and  to  accommodate  directions  and  exhor- 
tations to  these  different  classes  of  hearers.  When- 
ever you  bring  forth  what  a  man  feels  to  touch 
his  own  character,  or  to  suit  his  own  circum- 
stances, you  are  sure  of  interesting  him."  He 
also  advises  with  much  astuteness  that  a  preacher 
should  place  himself  in  the  situation  of  a  serious 
hearer.  "  Let  him  suppose  the  subject  addressed  to 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  53 

himself:  let  him  consider  what  views  of  it  would  strike 
him  most;  what  arguments  would  be  most  likely  to 
persuade  him;  what  parts  of  it  would  dwell  most  on 
his  mind.  Let  these  be  employed  as  his  principal 
materials;  and  in  these  it  is  most  likely  that  his  genius 
will  assert  itself  with  the  greatest  vigor."  All  these 
suggestions  are  admirably  well  taken;  and,  because 
of  the  experience  of  the  writer,  who  was  a  gifted  ora- 
tor and  celebrated  preacher  as  well  as  a  rhetorician, 
they  deserve  more  than  ordinary  attention.  No  pulpit 
speaker  can  long  afford  to  neglect  them,  for  they  are 
based  on  the  inherent,  elemental  principles  which  un- 
derlie all  spoken  discourse. 

II. 

VII.   THE  DIVISIONS  OF  THE  ORATION. 

Thus  far  we  have  been  considering  the  four  differ- 
ent forms  of  oratory  which  in  the  past  have  been  most 
conspicuous.  Next  we  must  turn  to  another  phase  of 
the  subject,  we  must  examine  the  oration  itself.  And 
the  first  topic  to  which  we  must  give  some  attention 
is  an  enumeration  of  the  parts  into  which  an  oration 
may  be  divided,  a  question  upon  which  by  no  means 
all  writers  have  been  agreed.  Common  tradition  has 
it  that  the  first  person  to  make  the  analysis  of  a  speech 
was  Corax,  the  Sicilian  rhetorician,  who  framed  four 
divisions:  introduction,  narration,  proof,  and  conclu- 
sion. Aristotle,  a  number  of  years  later,  reaches  prac- 
tically the  same  result,  although  his  designation  is 
slightly  different;  he,  also,  has  four  divisions:  ex- 
ordium, exposition,  proof,  and  peroration.  The  first 


54  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

important  deviation  from  this  plan  is  made  by  Cicero, 
who  adds  two  new  divisions,  thus  making  in  all  six: 
introduction,  narration,  proposition,  proof,  refutation, 
and  conclusion.  Quintilian,  inasmuch  as  he  puts 
the  proposition  under  the  narration,  again  alters  this; 
and  modern  writers  have  been  equally  unable  to  ac- 
cept implicitly  any  of  the  arrangements. 

In  reality,  it  must  be  said,  the  plan  adopted  makes 
very  little  difference.  Aristotle  includes  everything 
that  is  essential  in  his  four  parts;  and  to  place  the 
proposition  under  a  separate  head,  and  to  distinguish 
between  direct  and  indirect  proof  by  calling  one  con- 
firmation and  the  other  confutation,  is  simply  to  re- 
fine more  subtilely,  and  not  to  add  anything  new.  A 
much  more  pertinent  objection  is  that  some  of  these 
divisions  are  not  adapted  to  modern  conditions.  It  is 
absurd  to  call  the  body  of  the  oration  the  proof  when 
(as  in  the  case  of  a  sermon  or  a  eulogy)  it  may  contain 
no  trace  of  argument;  and  to  designate  any  part  as  the 
proposition  is  anachronistic,  for  now  most  orations 
have  no  proposition.  Such  terms  as  these  are  a  relic 
of  the  time  when  a  majority  of  speeches  were  argu- 
ments, when  nearly  all  oratory  worth  writing  about 
was  forensic.  But  to-day,  when  pulpit  oratory  has 
arisen  and  demonstrative  oratory  has  so  much  promi- 
nence, such  divisions  are  very  misleading. 

We  should,  then,  either  omit  or  find  some  fresh 
designation  for  at  least  two  of  the  divisions  of  the  an- 
cient rhetoricians.  The  latter  is  the  better  course. 
In  place  of  proof,  the  body  of  the  oration  can  be  called 
the  discussion;  and  in  place  of  proposition,  the  word 
which  fills  a  similar  office  for  exposition,  partition, 
may  be  adopted.  The  other  three  divisions  as  named 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  55 

by  Cicero  are  serviceable  and  can  be  retained.  We 
shall  then  have  five  parts  in  the  oration:  (i)  introduc- 
tion, (2)  narration,  (3)  partition,  (4)  discussion,  (5) 
conclusion.  Not  all  of  these  parts  will  be  found  in 
every  public  address ;  usually  no  more  than  three — the 
introduction,  the  discussion,  and  the  conclusion;  but 
the  five  represent  the  completest  structure,  and  each 
therefore  will  be  the  subject  of  some  comment  in  what 
follows. 

VIII.    THE  INTRODUCTION. 

The  introduction,  the  beginning,  is  always  an  ex- 
tremely important  part  of  any  discourse,  whether  it  be 
spoken  or  written.  We  all  know  how  many  magazine 
articles  are  cast  aside  after  the  opening  paragraphs 
have  been  glanced  through,  and  how  many  speeches 
cease  to  command  attention  after  the  first  five  minutes. 
At  the  outset  of  a  discourse,  an  audience,  fresh  and 
eager,  gives  more  unsought  attention,  and  is  also  in  a 
more  critical  mood,  than  at  any  other  time;  the  jar- 
ring phrase  or  the  slightly  ungraceful  gesture  will 
then  be  noticed  which,  in  the  thrill  of  the  discussion 
proper,  would  pass  unremarked.  Hence,  in  many 
cases,  if  an  orator  is  to  win  a  hearing  for  his  cause  at 
all,  it  must  be  at  the  beginning.  Once  let  an  audi- 
ence conclude  that  an  address  is  to  be  dry  and  un- 
profitable and  relax  their  interest,  and  only  with  the 
greatest  exertion  can  they  be  recalled;  but  let  that 
interest  be  gained  at  the  start,  and  the  rest  is  likely  to 
be  fair  sailing. 

Cicero  stated  very  succinctly  the  purpose  of  the 
introduction  when  he  said  that  it  should  "  pre- 
pare the  minds  of  the  audience  for  a  favorable  recep- 


$6  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

tion  of  what  follows."  Analyzing  this  dictum  a  little 
further,  we  may  add  that  the  minds  of  an  audience  are 
generally  of  one  of  two  complexions;  either  they  are 
hostile,  in  which  case  they  must  be  made  tractable,  or 
they  are  inert  and  inattentive,  and  must  be  interested ; 
and  hence  the  function  of  the  introduction  to  a  dis- 
course is  usually  either  to  placate  or  to  interest.  The 
first  of  these  two  problems  is  much  the  more  difficult ; 
to  win  the  favor  of  a  bickering  crowd  being  perhaps 
the  highest  evidence  of  oratorical  art.  But  for  the 
accomplishment  of  this  end,  since  so  much  depends  on 
the  color  and  temperament  of  each  body  of  hearers,  no 
very  precise  rules  can  be  laid  down.  Possibly  the 
most  common  method  employed  is  where  the  speaker 
attempts  at  the  outset  to  establish  some  bond  of  sym- 
pathy between  himself  and  those  before  him.  On  the 
question  in  hand,  to  be  sure,  some  difference  of 
opinion  exists,  but  on  many  other  points  the  two  are 
united;  why  not,  then,  bear  with  a  brief  statement  of 
the  present  topic?  Or  he  may  insist  that  he  and  his 
audience  are,  in  reality,  not  so  far  apart  after  all,  they 
happen  to  look  at  the  question  in  only  a  little  different 
perspective;  or  he  may  appeal  to  their  fair-mindedness 
to  hear  both  sides  before  coming  to  a  definite  conclu- 
sion; or  he  may  show  that  their  abiding  interest  lies 
with  him,  not  with  his  opponent,  whom  they  momen- 
tarily follow.  All  such  methods  as  these,  and  many 
more  drawn  from  the  nature  of  the  cause,  lie  at  the 
'command  of  the  speaker,  by  which  he  may  insinuate 
himself  into  favor.  Another  way,  somewhat  less  easy 
of  accomplishment,  is  also  open :  for  the  orator  to  con- 
ciliate through  some  reference  to  himself,  his  history, 
or  his  vocation.  The  difficultv  in  such  cases  lies  of 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  57 

course  in  handling  delicately  and  inoffensively  the 
subject  of  one's  self;  although,  when  common  senti- 
ment, ancestry,  training,  predilection,  or  experience, 
actually  exist,  no  great  harm  can  come  from  stating 
the  facts  modestly  and  adroitly.  As  examples  of  in- 
troductions for  hostile  audiences,  none  show  more 
insight  than  those  which  preface  the  addresses  made 
by  Henry  Ward  Beecher  in  England  in  1863. 

Not  often,  however,  must  a  speaker  nowadays  ad- 
dress those  positively  inimical  to  him;  much  more 
frequently  his  sole  duty  is  to  grapple  and  overcome 
that  vast  inertia  which  every  audience  presents.  Few 
assemblies  are  so  intent  on  a  subject  that  they  need  no 
word  of  stimulus  to  prod  their  interest  and  demon- 
strate to  them  why  they  should  pay  careful  heed  to  the 
discussion.  This,  then,  is  a  second  purpose  of  the 
introduction — to  win  attention;  and  it  is  also  secured 
from  two  sources:  from  some  tactful  reference  to  the 
speaker's  knowledge  of  the  subject  and  his  association 
with  it,  or  from  the  subject  itself;  the  latter  again  fur- 
nishing a  greater  variety  of  themes.  Now,  a  subject 
may  be  interesting  in  itself  for  three  reasons:  because 
of  its  inherent  importance,  because  of  the  amount  of 
discussion  it  has  aroused,  or  because  of  some  event  or 
circumstance  with  which  it  is  identified.  In  framing 
any  introduction,  all  three  or  only  a  single  one  of  these 
ideas  may  be  touched  upon,  according  to  the  time  or 
place  of  the  oration.  An  address  on  civil  service  re- 
form, for  instance,  delivered  shortly  after  a  new  admin- 
istration had  come  into  power,  might  get  its  chief 
interest  from  current  events;  two  years  later,  the  in- 
herent importance  of  the  subject  might  more  appro- 
priately form  the  burden  of  the  introduction. 


58  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

But  whenever  possible,  it  may  be  said,  the  imme- 
diate occasion,  the  place,  the  words  of  a  preceding 
speaker,  probably  form  the  best  sort  of  introduction 
to  an  address.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  such  ideas 
make  the  opening,  and  indeed  the  whole  speech, 
fresher  and  more  spontaneous — an  end  much  to  be 
sought  for.  Quintilian  gives  expression  to  this 
thought  with  singular  felicity.  He  says,  "  There  is 
much  attraction  in  an  exordium  which  derives  its  sub- 
stance from  the  pleading  of  our  opponent,  for  this  rea- 
son, that  it  does  not  appear  to  have  been  composed  at 
home,  but  to  be  produced  on  the  spot,  and  from  the 
suggestion  of  the  subject;  it  increases  the  reputation 
of  the  speaker  for  ability,  from  the  facility  which  he 
exhibits,  and,  from  wearing  the  appearance  of  a  plain 
address,  prompted  by  what  has  just  been  said,  gains 
him  the  confidence  of  his  audience;  insomuch  that, 
though  the  rest  of  his  speech  may  be  written  and  care- 
fully studied,  the  whole  of  it  nevertheless  seems  almost 
entirely  extemporaneous,  as  it  is  evident  that  its  com- 
mencement received  no  preparation  at  all."  Only  in 
a  less  degree  is  this  true  when  the  idea  of  the  opening 
paragraphs  is  taken  from  the  scene,  the  occasion,  or 
the  circumstance,  which  call  forth  the  effort;  when  the 
speaker  expresses  the  thoughts  inarticulate  in  other 
minds. 

As  a  usual  thing  the  introduction  should  be  so 
striking  and  beautiful  as  to  exact  the  attention  of  even 
the  most  reluctant.  Such  was  the  plan  of  Daniel 
Webster,  whose  exordiums  are  among  the  choicest 
gems  of  his  oratory.  And  yet  there  is  a  caution  to  be 
uttered  against  making  the  opening  so  grand  and  im- 
pressive that  the  rest  of  the  speech  seems  anti-climac- 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  59 

tic.  No  higher  or  loftier  note  should  be  sounded  than 
can  be  sustained  in  other  parts,  particularly  at  the  end; 
and,  in  addition,  nothing  should  be  admitted  that  is 
artificial  or  bombastic.  Strength  and  impressiveness 
should  be  sought  for;  but  simple,  natural  strength, 
rather  than  high-flown  declamation.  Smoothness, 
ease,  and  grace  must  also  be  cultivated,  for  nowhere, 
as  has  been  observed,  does  halting,  nervous  ineffect- 
iveness count  more  to  the  ill,  than  when  the  audience 
is  fresh  to  notice  and  to  criticise.  No  mention  of  the 
difficulties  the  speaker  has  labored  under,  or  his  lack 
of  preparation,  should  ever  be  admitted:  no  apology 
for  a  poor  performance  is  tolerable.  If  a  speaker 
takes  the  floor,  his  duty  is  to  do  the  best  he  can;  not  to 
make  his  effort  worse  by  tedious,  obvious  remarks  in 
exculpation. 

Not  every  address  requires  a  formal  introduction. 
Particularly  is  this  the  case  in  deliberative  oratory, 
when  a  speech  is  delivered  in  the  course  of  an  ex- 
tended debate.  Then,  in  all  probability,  all  that  is 
needed  is  a  few  sentences  which  shall  join  the  speech 
to  the  one  that  preceded  it.  The  importance  of  the 
discussion,  its  bearing,  and  like  topics  have  doubtless 
been  touched  upon  by  previous  speakers.  The  same 
is  also  true  at  times  in  forensic  oratory,  when  the 
plea  of  one  advocate  follows  that  of  a  colleague  or  an 
opponent.  Even  in  these  cases,  however,  a  brief 
word  or  two  is  better  indulged  in  before  plunging  into 
the  argument  proper,  since  the  speech  is  thus  given 
a  certain  form,  a  completeness,  which  otherwise  will 
be  lacking.  Beyond  such  a  rule,  the  length  of  an  in- 
troduction can  never  be  determined  except  for  each 
occasion  as  it  arises.  The  usual  suggestion  made  by 


60  THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

writers  is  that  the  introduction  should  be  short  and  to 
the  point;  but  short  may  mean,  in  some  instances, 
several  pages.  The  length,  as  in  any  work  of  art, 
should  be  in  proportion  to  the  structure;  it  should  be 
long  enough  to  accomplish  the  wished-for  end,  and 
no  longer;  but  whether  this  is  ten  or  one  thousand 
words,  depends  entirely  upon  conditions. 

IX.    THE  NARRATION. 

The  narration  normally  follows  the  introduction, 
and  states  the  facts  necessary  for  an  intelligent  and 
satisfactory  understanding  of  the  question.  As,  how- 
ever, an  exposition  of  facts  is  not  required  in  the 
treatment  of  all  subjects,  the  narration  is  not  an  essen- 
tial part  of  every  discourse.  Its  use  is,  indeed,  chiefly 
limited  to  the  field  of  deliberative,  pulpit,  and  forensic 
oratory;  although  it  is  occasionally  employed  in  dem- 
onstrative oratory  as  well. 

Although  deliberative  oratory  deals  almost  entirely 
with  questions  of  future  expediency,  so  frequently  does 
the  settlement  of  such  questions  depend  on  conditions 
in  the  past  that  the  narration  is  usually  an  important 
element  of  orations  of  this  type.  Certain  facts  and 
conditions  of  the  past  must  be  made  known  before 
any  adequate  discussion  in  regard  to  the  future  can 
be  carried  on.  If,  for  example,  appropriations  are  de- 
sired for  an  increase  of  coast  defenses,  those  appealed 
to  must  be  told  what  the  present  defenses  are,  when 
they  were  built,  how  much  they  cost,  their  condition, 
whether  they  are  of  an  approved  type.  They  also 
must  know,  approximately,  what  could  be  accom- 
plished for  the  amount  of  money  asked  for;  what  guns 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  61 

could  be  purchased,  where  they  could  be  placed,  and 
how  far  they  would  go  toward  making  the  seaboard 
secure.  Only  after  these  facts,  which  properly  be- 
long to  the  narration,  have  been  stated,  can  the  gen- 
eral proposition  be  argued.  The  student,  recalling 
how  large  a  proportion  such  questions  form  of  all 
that  come  before  a  legislative  body,  will  at  once  recog- 
nize the  place  and  importance  of  the  narration  in 
deliberative  oratory. 

In  pulpit  oratory  the  function  of  the  narration  is 
usually  to  make  clear  the  meaning  of  the  text,  or  to 
elucidate  in  any  other 'way  points  which  the  preacher 
may  regard  as  essential  to  a  complete  comprehension 
of  the  body  of  his  sermon.  Often  in  pulpit  oratory  the 
narration  is  called  the  exposition.  In  dealing  with  a 
subject  drawn  from  biblical  history,  the  topography 
of  the  country  may  have  to  be  explained;  or  the  cir- 
cumstances recalled  under  which  the  words  of  a  text 
were  spoken;  or,  in  an  exegetical  sermon,  some 
account  of  the  interpretations  of  the  most  learned 
scholars  given;  and  these  offices  will  usually  be  per- 
formed in  the  narration.  Still,  not  in  all  sermons,  any 
more  than  in  all  deliberative  speeches,  is  a  formal  nar- 
ration necessary.  A  preacher  may  proceed  to  his 
divisions  or  to  the  first  main  head  of  his  discourse  at 
once,  without  explanation  or  amplification,  the  mean- 
ing of  his  text  being  perfectly  clear,  and  the  special 
theme  requiring  no  preliminary  exposition. 

In  forensic  oratory,  except  when  a  speaker  follows  a 
colleague  or  an  opponent  who  has  related  the  essential 
facts,  the  narration  always  has  great  importance.  The 
reason  for  this  is  manifest  enough.  Forensic  oratory 
has  to  do  exclusively  with  contentions  arising  in  the 


6*  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

past;  and,  as  is  evident,  before  any  discussion  is  possi- 
ble as  to  the  merits  of  a  dispute  relating  to  the  past, 
the  events  leading  up  to  it  must  be  clearly  known. 
Hence,  in  the  trial  of  nearly  all  cases,  much  time  is 
devoted  to  the  examination  of  witnesses  and  the  dis- 
covery of  facts,  to  which  both  judge  and  jury  pay  close 
attention.  But,  because  of  this,  because  when  the 
time  for  making  the  pleas  comes  the  great  mass  of 
material,  which  in  a  wholly  comprehensive  scheme 
would  be  included  in  the  narration,  is  already  known, 
the  statement  of  facts  in  a  legal  argument  may  occupy 
no  more  space  than  in  any  other  speech.  Usually 
all  that  the  advocate  will  attempt  is  to  revive  in  the 
minds  of  the  court  what  he  regards  as  the  salient  fea- 
tures of  the  evidence,  taking  for  granted  that  the  more 
adventitious  elements  have  been  sufficiently  well  re- 
membered. Occasionally,  however,  the  whole  story 
of  the  crime  or  fraud  will  be  recited,  an  effort  being 
made  to  present  the  circumstances  truthfully  but  in 
such  a  way  as  inevitably  to  throw  weight  to  one  side 
or  the  other  of  the  contest.  When  the  last  expedient 
is  adopted,  great  skill  may  be  shown  in  selecting  the 
proper  facts  to  be  introduced,  and  in  presenting  them 
in  their  logical  relations;  and  the  fullest  opportunity 
is  given  for  graphic,  persuasive  statement.  The  im- 
memorial example  in  ancient  literature  of  a  narration 
of  this  kind  is  in  Cicero's  oration  for  Milo,  and  in 
modern  literature,  Webster's  argument  in  the  trial  of 
Knapp. 

In  demonstrative  oratory  any  extended  narration  is 
scarcely  ever  needed;  the  nature  of  the  subjects  which 
ordinarily  engage  the  demonstrative  orator  does  not 
demand  it.  To  be  sure,  it  is  sometimes  said  that  the 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  63 

biographical  sketch  in  a  eulogy  should  be  treated  as 
part  of  the  narration;  but  the  reasoning  upon  which 
such  an  opinion  is  based  is  purely  sophistical.  The 
narrative  of  the  life  in  a  biographical  eulogy  is  a  dis- 
tinct part  of  the  discussion ;  it  does  not  have  the  func- 
tion of  the  narration  in  an  expository  discourse,  which 
is  to  clear  the  path  for  what  follows.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  commemorative  address,  which  deals 
chiefly  with  incidents;  the  recounting  of  the  events 
belongs  to  the  discussion,  not  to  the  narration.  Al- 
though, of  course,  when  incidents  are  recalled  solely 
for  the  purpose  of  rendering  intelligible  an  exposition 
which  follows,  they  belong  to  the  narration. 

From  what  has  now  been  said  the  student  may  have 
observed  on  his  own  account  that,  apart  from  its  use  in 
forensic  speeches,  the  chief  use  of  the  narration  is  that 
of  definition.  When,  to  illustrate,  the  speaker  makes 
clear,  for  the  purpose  of  debate,  the  present  condition 
of  coast  defenses,  he  is  doing  no  more  than  defining 
that  term  of  the  proposition;  when  he  describes  the 
improvements  desired,  he  defines  the  word  "  in- 
creased"; and  nearly  always  in  deliberative,  pulpit, 
and  demonstrative  oratory  does  this  rule  hold,  that 
the  definition  of  the  terms  in  a  broad  sense  will  include 
about  all  the  narration  necessary.  Certain  it  is  that 
the  best  guide  to  follow  in  determining  what  a  narra- 
tion should  contain  is  to  take  up  separately  each  term 
of  the  proposition  or  subject,  and  to  ask  whether  any- 
thing about  it  requires  explanation.  Does  the  audi- 
ence understand  not  only  the  usual  interpretation,  but 
the  one  to  be  maintained  in  this  precise  discourse?  If 
not,  then  the  special  meaning  should  be  expounded. 
It  has  been  before  remarked  that  an  audience  should 


64  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

never  be  left  in  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  just  what  a 
speaker  wishes  to  convey;  and  the  place  where  this 
explanation  can  generally  best  be  made  is  in  the 
narration. 

The  last  rule,  however,  is  not  always  to  be  accepted; 
sometimes  the  narration  does  not  follow  the  introduc- 
tion; instead  of  being  thus  introduced  it  is  scattered 
throughout  the  discourse.  Instances  where  this 
method  is  adopted  are  found  in  speeches  of  all  kinds. 
In  a  sermon,  for  example,  the  speaker  may  consider 
separately  the  several  phrases  of  his  text,  explaining 
and  commenting  on  each  fully  before  passing  to  the 
next.  Here,  then,  the  narration  will  be  made  in  three 
or  four  different  places.  The  same  may  occur  in  de- 
liberative oratory  when  it  is  proposed  to  change  an 
existing  institution  for  a  new  one;  the  present  insti- 
tution may  be  fully  brought  out  and  enlarged  upon 
before  anything  is  said  about  the  scheme  which  is  to 
supersede  it.  That  is,  one  half  of  the  narration,  the 
exposition  of  the  existing  system,  would  be  placed  after 
the  introduction;  one  half,  the  exposition  of  the  pro- 
posed system,  would  be  placed  in  the  middle  of  the 
discussion.  There  is,  furthermore,  in  questions  of  the 
'kind  just  spoken  of,  still  another  reason  why  the  narra- 
tion might  be  placed  elsewhere  than  at  the  beginning. 
In  such  questions  certain  facts  are  likely  to  be  equally 
essential  both  as  narration  and  as  argument.  The 
definition  of  an  existing  system  might  also  include  a 
statement  of  asserted  evils,  because  of  which  a  change 
is  to  be  made;  such  a  statement  being  justified  in  the 
narration  as  an  exposition  of  present  conditions.  But 
these  same  facts  might  likewise  be  a  very  important 
part  of  the  argument  in  favor  of  the  scheme  proposed. 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  65 

Hence  the  question  may  arise  where  such  facts  can 
best  be  placed;  should  they  be  put  after  the  introduc- 
tion, or  passed  by  until  the  discussion  proper  has  been 
reached?  The  answer  to  this,  as  to  other  similar  ques- 
tions, can  never  be  made  absolutely.  There  are  un- 
doubtedly a  great  many  cases  in  which  at  least  part 
of  the  narration  had  better  be  reserved  until  the  time 
to  make  use  of  it  in  the.  discussion  arrives;  but  more 
often,  we  may  say,  the  beginning  of  the  address  is  the 
place  for  it.  Here,  to  be  sure,  it  may  stand  out  with 
unfortunate  prominence,  and  unless  dexterously 
handled,  make  the  work  a  bit  mechanical;  but  then  the 
likelihood  that  any  part  of  the  speech  will  not  be  com- 
prehended is  as  far  as  possible  avoided. 

The  three  rhetorical  qualities  which  have  always 
been  regarded  as  essential  in  a  narration  are  clearness, 
conciseness,  and  truthfulness.  The  facts  must  be 
placed  before  an  audience  with  absolute  lucidity;  their 
relation  and  bearing  on  the  general  question  made 
perfectly  evident.  So  far,  too,  as  is  consistent  with 
clearness,  conciseness  must  be  aimed  for.  The 
speaker  must  not  forget  that  the  narration  is  really  a 
preliminary  part  and  must  not  occupy  the  minds  of  his 
audience  longer  than  is  necessary.  Time  spent  here, 
in  so  far  as  additional  attention  is  demanded,  may 
militate  against  the  success  of  what  follows.  Tech- 
nically less  evident,  perhaps,  at  first  glance,  but  equally 
important,  is  the  last  stipulation  of  truthfulness  and 
probability.  In  the  narration  the  speaker  is  stating 
facts  which  all  must  agree  to.  While  exaggeration 
and  over-insistence  may  be  permitted  in  the  profes- 
sedly biased  argument,  in  the  narration  these  qualities 
have  no  place  at  all.  Not  only,  too,  should  the  facts 


66  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

be  accurate,  but  they  should  be  incontrovertible;  for 
to  provoke  discussion  on  questions  of  definition  is  to 
drive  the  argument  entirely  out  of  its  proper  channel. 
Indeed,  one  of  the  most  skillful  of  all  methods  of  argu- 
mentation is  to  state  the  circumstances  so  impartially 
that  they  will  be  as  acceptable  for  one  side  as  for  the 
other.  The  value  of  such  a  method  is  in  conciliation. 
Nothing  will  more  quickly  win  a  judge  from  the  atti- 
tude of  opposition  in  which  he  instinctively  places  him- 
self when  a  speaker,  avowedly  an  advocate,  begins, 
than  an  eminently  fair  and  unbiased  exposition. 

In  not  a  great  many  instances  does  the  narration 
furnish  much  chance  for  play  upon  the  emotions ;  con- 
ciseness and  clearness,  as  has  been  remarked,  rather 
than  elegance  or  beauty  are  the  important  ends.  The 
exception  to  this  is  where  the  facts  on  which  an  argu- 
ment is  based  are,  in  themselves,  exceedingly  dra- 
matic and  vivid,  and  where  their  recital  in  a  dramatic 
way  will  clearly  add  force  to  the  whole  presentation. 
Then  the  imagination  may  be  let  loose  and  all  the 
arts  of  splendid  rhetoric  called  into  play.  But  such 
instances,  outside  the  field  of  forensic  oratory,  are  not 
many;  generally  the  narration  is  a  subdued  though  in- 
cisive part  of  the  oration,  vigorous  perhaps,  but  not 
necessarily  impassioned. 

X.   THE  PARTITION. 

The  partition,  the  purpose  of  which  is  to  indicate  the 
method  of  treatment  to  be  adopted  in  a  discourse,  is 
another  division  not  to  be  found  in  all  orations.  In 
classic  oratory,  and,  in  spite  of  the  criticisms  heaped 
upon  it  by  so  influential  a  writer  as  the  Archbishop  of 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  67 

Cambray,  in  much  modern  oratory  a  partition  of  some 
sort  is  usually  to  be  noted.  But  in  the  last  half  cen- 
tury, owing  no  doubt  to  the  wholesome  trend  toward 
simplicity  and  inartificiality  in  all  writing  and  speak- 
ing, its  use  has  been  much  less  general ;  and  to-day  it 
is  rarely  to  be  observed  even  in  the  work  of  the  most 
careful  speakers. 

The  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  a  partition, 
and  the  characteristics  of  a  good  one,  are  the  impor- 
tant things  to  be  spoken  of  here ;  although,  before  do- 
ing so,  it  may  be  well  to  show  a  little  more  clearly  just 
what  a  partition  is,  first  in  narrative  and  expository 
addresses,  and  second  in  arguments;  for  the  purpose 
is  scarcely  the  same  in  each. 

In  expository  discourses, — that  is,  in  demonstrative 
and  in  the  burden  of  pulpit  oratory, — the  partition  is 
an  enumeration  of  the  various  points  a  speaker  wishes 
to  treat  of.  It  is  introduced  after  the  preliminary  ex- 
planations have  been  made  and  just  before  the  discus- 
sion proper  begins.  The  points  are  most  frequently 
stated  clearly  and  intelligibly  in  a  single  paragraph, 
as  is  the  case  in  the  following  example  taken  from  the 
oration  on  the  Law  of  Human  Progress  by  Charles 
Sumner  (who,  as  is  rather  interesting  to  note,  is  the 
last  important  orator  to  use  a  partition  with  any  regu- 
larity). After  a  few  preliminary  pages  Sumner  says: 

"  The  subject  is  vast  as  it  is  interesting  and  impor- 
tant. It  might  well  occupy  a  volume,  rather  than  a 
brief  discourse.  In  unfolding  it,  I  shall  speak  first  of 
the  History  of  the  Law,  as  seen  in  its  origin,  gradual 
development,  and  recognition, — and  next  of  its  charac- 
ter, conditions,  and  limitations,  with  the  duties  it  en- 
joins and  the  encouragement  it  affords." 


68  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

This  is  a  partition  of  two  heads,  indicating  the  gen- 
eral direction  which  the  discourse  will  take,  and  of 
some  minor  points  which  .show  how  the  chief  divisions 
will  be  handled.  Except,  however,  as  they  remove  in 
a  certain  way  the  baldness  which  would  arise  from  a 
plain  statement  of  the  two  main  heads,  the  subheads, 
since  they  are  likely  soon  to  be  forgotten,  have  no 
great  value  and  could  be  omitted  without  disturbing 
the  structure  of  the  oration.  What  is  more  important 
to  note  about  this  kind  of  partition  is  that  it  indicates 
a  perfectly  arbitrary  method  of  treatment.  The  orator, 
had  he  chosen,  might  have  touched  the  subject  from 
half  a  dozen  other,  and  different,  points  of  view.  For 
reasons  known  only  to  himself  he  selected  the  one 
phrased  in  this  excerpt,  and  to  this  he  directed  the 
attention  of  his  hearers. 

In  forensic  speeches  this  is  not  the  case.  The 
partition  no  longer  shows  how  the  speaker,  con- 
trolled only  by  taste,  and  certain  exigencies  of  the 
occasion,  will  take  up  his  topic;  it  is  the  statement 
of  the  necessary  and  inevitable  points  which,  if 
proved,  will  prove  the  question.  The  difference  is 
very  great.  In  an  expository  address  the  speaker  has 
a  wide  latitude  of  treatment  permitted  him;  his  di- 
visions may  not  be  at  all  exhaustive,  that  is,  without 
impairing  the  weight  or  agreeableness  of  his  discourse, 
he  may  cover  no  more  than  a  corner  of  his  subject; 
and  his  audience  will,  in  all  probability,  pay  very 
slight  attention  either  to  the  exactness  or  scientific- 
ness  of  his  method,  so  long  as  it  is  not  absolutely  bad. 
But  not  so  in  argument.  In  an  argument  a  speaker  is 
confined  within  very  rigid  lines;  his  divisions  must 
completely  and  conclusively  cover  his  question;  and, 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  69 

unless  his  audience  and  his  opponent  accept  his  par- 
tition as  the  proper  and  logical  one,  he  need  go  no 
further,  for  what  he  says  will  be  fruitless.  In  the 
one  case  the  division  is  taken  arbitrarily  and  some- 
what casually,  in  the  other  logically  and  inevitably; 
this  is  the  difference  between  the  partition  of  an  ex- 
position and  the  partition  of  an  argument. 

Now,  just  how  in  the  last  instance,  in  the  argu- 
ment, the  speaker  shall  proceed  to  get  the  divisions, 
or,  as  they  may  more  technically  be  called,  the  issues 
of  his  question,  is  worthy  of  a  word  of  explanation. 
Under  the  head  of  forensic  oratory  the  statement  was 
made  that  the  first  step  in  preparing  any  argument  is 
to  make  an  analysis  of  the  question  in  order  to  dis- 
cover the  chief,  the  essential,  points  in  it.  By  such  an 
analysis,  the  speaker  will  find  that  both  the  affirmative 
and  negative  sides  will  agree  upon  certain  facts,  which 
may  at  once  be  excluded  from  any  consideration ;  and 
he  will  also  learn  that  there  are  certain  other  facts 
which,  though  usually  associated  with  the  question, 
have  no  real  bearing  upon  it,  and  which  may  also  be 
excluded  by  simply  showing  that  they  are  extraneous. 
The  result  is  that  by  this  process  the  question  can  be 
narrowed  down  to  two  or  three  or  perhaps  more  issues 
which  will  form  the  divisions  of  the  oration,  and  about 
which  all  the  discussion  will  center.  Both  sides  ad- 
mitting these  issues,  according  to  the  way  they  are 
proved,  the  verdict  will  go. 

The  following  passage,  taken  from  a  speech  of  Wen- 
dell Phillips,  in  favor  of  the  abolition  of  capital  punish- 
ment, is  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  method  of 
finding  the  issues  by  exclusion  and  argument,  and 
incidentally  of  the  difference  between  partition  in 


70  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

argumentation  and  partition  in  exposition.  The 
speaker  says: 

"  In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Chairman,  what  is  the  ob- 
ject of  all  punishment,  in  a  civil  community?  Of 
course,  it  is  not  to  revenge  any  act  committed.  The 
idea  of  revenge  is  to  be  separated  from  the  idea  of 
punishment,  when  we  speak  of  capital  punishment, 
or  any  other  punishment,  in  civil  society.  Neither 
can  it  be  said  that  punishment  is  the  penalty  of  sin, 
properly  speaking;  that  is,  sin  in  the  eye  of  God,  where 
an  individual — a  conscious,  responsible  individual — 
commits  a  wrong  act  with  a  wrong  motive.  Society 
has  nothing  to  do  with  motive;  society  punishes  acts. 
Strictly  speaking,  therefore,  the  word  punishment 
ought  never  to  be  used  in  this  connection.  Punish- 
ment belongs  only  to  that  Being  who  can  fathom  the 
heart  and  find  out  motives. 

"  Now,  there  are  two  objects  that  society  has  in  in- 
flicting penalties — that  is  the  proper  word,  not  '  pun- 
ishment.' According  to  Lord  Brougham,  in  his 
letter  to  Lord  Lyndhurst  on  this  very  topic,  these 
objects  are — first,  to  prevent  the  individual  offender 
from  ever  repeating  his  offense;  and  second,  to  deter 
others  from  imitating  his  offense.  The  primary  ob- 
ject of  all  government  is  protection, — protection  to 
persons  and  property.  That  protection  is  to  be 
gained  in  two  ways, — by  taking  the  individual  mur- 
derer, or  the  individual  thief,  and  by  putting  him  to 
death,  or  shutting  him  up,  to  prevent  his  recommitting 
his  offense;  and  by  so  arranging  the  penalty  on  that 
man  as  to  deter  others  from  imitating  his  example. 

"  Well,  we  come  to  the  penalty  of  the  gallows, — the 
taking  away  of  life.  In  the  first  place, — to  look  at  it 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  1\ 

abstractly, — is  it  necessary  in  order  to  restrain  the 
murderer,  or  to  deter  others  from  imitating  him?  It 
manifestly  is  not  necessary  to  restrain  the  murderer; 
because  society  is  now  so  settled  in  its  arrangements, 
so  perfectly  stereotyped  in  its  shape  and  form,  that 
you  can  put  a  man  between  four  walls  and  keep  him 
there  his  whole  life.  No  man  will  pretend  before  this 
committee  that  that  part  of  the  object  of  penalty  which 
would  prevent  the  man  from  repeating  his  offense 
obliges  you  to  take  his  life.  You  can  shut  him  up 
just  as  securely  in  a  prison  as  in  a  grave.  It  is  not 
necessary,  then,  to  restrain  the  criminal;  nobody  pre- 
tends it. 

"  Is  it  necessary  for  the  simple  purpose  of  deterring 
others  from  like  offenses?  Will  the  taking  of  the 
man's  life  deter  others  from  following  in  his  steps? 
That  is  the  only  question  that  remains." 

Here  the  reader  will  have  observed  how  the  parti- 
tion, instead  of  being  taken  arbitrarily,  is,  throughout, 
a  piece  of  logical  exclusion.  First  the  speaker  shows 
that  two  ideas,  those  of  revenge  and  punishment, 
sometimes  associated  with  the  topic,  are  really  extra- 
neous, and  should  have  no  place.  On  the  contrary, 
the  only  two  objects  for  which  penalties  are  given  are, 
to  prevent  the  individual  offender  from  repeating  his 
offense,  and  to  deter  others;  and,  furthermore,  there 
are  only  two  ways  by  which  these  ends  can  be  accom- 
plished— by  death  and  by  imprisonment.  Taking  up 
the  first,  it  is  evident  that  death  is  not  necessary  to  pre- 
vent repetition  by  the  present  offender;  the  question 
is,  therefore,  is  it  necessary  to  deter  others?  The  flaw 
in  reasoning  here  will  probably  be  observed  by  even 
the  inexpert  dialectician;  and  no  one  would  be  likely 


7*  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

to  affirm  that  enough  evidence  is  introduced  in  sup- 
port of  the  different  propositions.  Nevertheless  the 
example  is  a  thoroughly  good  one  for  the  present  pur- 
pose. It  illustrates  the  care  which  must  be  taken  with 
the  partition  in  argumentation  as  opposed  to  exposi- 
tion. In  exposition  the  speaker  might  have  said  that 
he  proposed  to  treat  the  subject  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  influence  of  the  death  penalty  in  preventing 
others  from  committing  crimes;  and  all  the  evidence 
brought  out  in  the  present  speech  might  have  been 
used.  But  the  question  would  not  have  been  proved. 
The  audience  would  not  have  seen  that  by  proving 
this  one  point,  the  entire  contention  of  the  affirmative 
was  substantiated.  This  is  why  the  logical  partition  is 
necessary  in  .argument.  One  must  show  that  the 
points  that  one  discusses  are  the  points,  and  the  only 
points,  on  which  the  question  turns.  In  other  words 
one  must  frequently  prove  what  one  is  to  prove. 

Thus  far  we  have  considered  the  partition  as  enter- 
ing into  and  forming  a  distinct  and  essential  part  of 
every  spoken  discourse.  Such,  however,  as  has  al- 
ready been  hinted,  is  not  always  the  case.  Although 
no  discourse  ever  ought  to  be  composed  or  spoken 
without  a  rigid  and  definite  partition  existing  in  the 
speaker's  mind,  there  are  many  reasons,  some  of  them 
of  a  good  deal  of  weight,  why  the  divisions  should  not 
be  formally  stated  and  made  known  to  the  audience. 
In  the  first  place,  there  are  certain  occasions  when  the 
speaker  wishes  wholly  to  conceal  the  object  of  his  dis- 
course, and  when  to  make  a  partition  would  be  abso- 
lutely fatal;  the  funeral  oration  of  Antony  in  Julius 
Casar  is  the  classic  example  of  this.  It  is,  further- 
more, true  that  a  partition  tends  to  make  an  address 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  ?3 

stiff  and  awkward,  to  take  away  the  appearance  of 
spontaneity,  and  in  some  degree  to  qualify  and  miti- 
gate the  effect  of  appeals  to  the  passions.  A  speech 
may  be  made  too  cut  and  dried;  the  audience,  knowing 
all  that  is  coming,  and  having  no  goad  of  expectancy 
to  keep  their  interest  aroused,  may  wait  for  one  divi- 
sion to  be  completed  and  another  entered  upon  as  the 
weary  traveler  watches  for  the  milestones  in  a  tedi- 
ous journey.  All  this  is  unquestionably  true;  and  in 
these  days  when  the  chief  characteristic  of  speaking 
both  as  regards  matter  and  manner  is  sincerity  and 
naturalness,  the  tendency  is  more  and  more  to  omit 
partitions. 

And  yet,  there  is  much,  rather  more  in  fact,  to  be 
said  on  the  opposite  side.  Both  Cicero  and  Quin- 
tilian,  and  most  rhetorical  writers,  have  strongly  urged 
the  value  of  the  statement  of  the  divisions  as  an  im- 
mense assistance  not  only  to  the  listener  but  to  the 
speaker.  When  the  speaker  would,  as  it  were,  wan- 
der, on  the  one  hand,  into  flowery  fields,  or,  on  the 
other,  into  arid  sands  of  extraneous  excursions,  the 
divisions  are  likely  to  keep  him  in  the  proper  path; 
they  will  act  as  bits  checking  him  when  he  would  de- 
part from  his  thoughtfully  conceived,  previously 
wrought  structure.  To  the  listener,  also,  they  are 
often  of  incalculable  service.  No  matter  how  price- 
less the  treasures  of  a  museum  may  be,  unless  they  are 
properly  catalogued  and  placarded,  although  they  may 
attract  a  passing  glance,  they  can  make  no  very  defi- 
nite or  lasting  impression  on  the  mind  of  a  visitor. 
So,  the  divisions  show  to  the  audience  exactly  where 
the  speaker  is,  what  he  intends  to  do,  and  how  he  will 
do  it.  They  make  the  address  clear  and  easily  appre- 


74  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

bended;  and  clearness  is  the  first  requisite  of  all  writ- 
ing and  speaking.  Particularly,  therefore,  when  the 
object  of  a  speech  is  to  give  important  information, 
that  is,  in  deliberative  or  forensic  oratory,  a  formal 
partition  should  in  most  cases  be  announced;  and  it 
should  always  be  announced  when  there  is  any  reason 
to  believe  that  the  method  adopted  will  not  otherwise 
be  readily  comprehended. 

The  characteristics  of  a  good  partition  are  that  the 
divisions  shall  be  few,  brief,  intelligible,  and  exclu- 
sive; and,  in  argument,  in  addition  to  these,  exhaustive 
and  conclusive.  The  best  number  of  divisions  for  the 
ordinary  discourse  is,  perhaps,  three,  although  as 
many  as  five  are  permissible ;  and  sometimes  in  foren- 
sic speeches,  the  whole  question  can  be  made  to  turn 
on  a  single  point,  which  is  very  desirable.  More  than 
five  divisions  are  likely  to  bewilder  an  audience;  they 
cannot  be  easily  grasped  as  a  whole  or  retained  in  the 
mind.  Furthermore,  each  division  should  be  brief 
and  concise,  occupying  not  more  than  a  line  or  two; 
and  this  again  because  a  short,  terse  statement  is  much 
more  easily  fastened  upon  than  one  longer  and  more 
involved.  Of  course  the  divisions  must  be  set  forth 
simply,  lucidly,  and  intelligibly.  By  exclusive  is 
meant  that  there  shall  be  no  overlapping,  a  fault  that 
is  not  uncommon.  For  instance,  it  would  be  wrong  to 
divide  a  question  into  three  such  heads  as :  the  theoreti- 
cal side,  the  practical  side,  the  situation  in  New  York 
State;  for  the  last  is  included  in  the  other  two.  To 
make  such  a  division  as  wisdom,  expediency,  history, 
and  justice  is  also  faulty,  for  these  terms  are  not  logi- 
cally correlative.  In  argument,  as  has  already  been 
said,  exhaustiveness  and  conclusiveness  are  the  prime 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  75 

requisites  of  a  partition.  The  question  must  not  only 
be  covered,  but  covered  in  such  a  way  as  to  permit  of 
neither  dissent  nor  controversy. 

In  conclusion,  then,  we  may  say  that  the  partition 
is  often  a  very  serviceable  part  of  an  oration,  and,  on 
theoretical  grounds  at  least,  may  always  be  defended. 
But,  in  practice;  the  custom,  we  must  acknowledge,  is 
largely  to  do  away  with  it,  and  by  its  omission  to  make 
the  structure  of  an  oration  as  little  mechanical  as  pos- 
sible. The  question  which  each  speaker  must  deter- 
mine for  himself  is  whether  the  result  thus  secured  is 
adequate  compensation  for  the  clearness  which  is 
likely  to  be  sacrificed. 

XI.   THE    DISCUSSION. 

Although  each  of  the  foregoing  divisions — the  in- 
troduction, the  narration,  and  the  partition — has 
been  treated  with  some  fullness,  the  writer  has  been 
careful  to  point  out  that  none  of  them  is  absolutely 
essential  to  any  discourse;  an  introduction  is,  indeed, 
usually  to  be  found;  the  other  parts  are  rare.  But  in 
the  case  of  the  discussion,  the  division  now  before  us, 
the  reverse  of  this  is  true;  the  discussion  is  an  essen- 
tial part;  in  fact  it  is  the  only  essential  part  in  an  ora- 
tion. Everything  that  precedes  this  is  explication  and 
preparation;  here  we  enter  upon  the  real  purpose  and 
object  of  the  speaker. 

Ancient  rhetoricians  were  much  more  successful 
than  moderns  have  been  in  indicating  what  the  discus- 
sion should  contain.  No  one,  nowadays,  seriously 
pretends  to  give  rules  for  the  contents  of  speeches;  it 
is  generally  recognized  that  however  much  can  be 


76  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

done  in  perfecting  form,  that  is,  the  method  of  ar- 
ranging ideas,  nothing  very  valuable  can  be  said  by 
anyone  as  to  how  these  ideas  shall  be  procured. 
The  ancients,  however,  were  of  an  opinion  much  to  the 
contrary.  Their  treatises  not  only  gave  rules  for  the 
construction,  but  for  the  discovery  of  the  material 
which  an  address  should  contain.  Such  rules,  which 
are  said  to  have  been  the  invention  of  Greek  sophists, 
were  called  "  topics,"  and  were  divided  into  two 
classes,  internal  and  external,  the  former  being  de- 
rived from  the  immediate  subject,  the  latter  from  an- 
terior sources.  Besides  the  general  topics,  there  were 
topics  peculiar  to  the  different  forms  of  oratory;  as, 
in  deliberative  oratory,  special  rules  were  given  for 
advocating  or  condemning  causes  of  certain  kinds; 
and  in  demonstrative  oratory,  schemes  showing  how 
a  person  or  thing  might  be  praised  or  censured.  Of 
course  these  topics  deserve  all  the  scorn  that  has  been 
cast  upon  them  by  latter-day  writers;  ideas  cannot  be 
made  to  order;  and  yet  this  whole  subject,  so  fully 
treated  by  Cicero,  is  full  of  interest,  as  showing  the 
thought  and  attention  that  were  once  devoted  to  the 
science  of  speech-making. 

What  little  there  is  of  real  value  to  be  said  under  the 
head  of  the  discussion  may  be  stated,  as  was  done 
under  partition,  first  with  reference  to  the  expository, 
and  second  with  reference  to  the  argumentative  ad- 
dress. In  touching  both  of  these  forms  one  of  the 
chief  points  to  be  noticed  is  the  method  of  arranging 
the  ideas  of  a  speech.  In  an  expository  oration  the 
ordinary  plan  for  securing  climax  is  followed:  the  de- 
velopment is  from  the  weaker  to  the  stronger,  from 
the  less  to  the  more  intense.  Beginning  smoothly 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  77 

and  easily,  without  extraordinary  emphasis  or  gestic- 
ulation, the  orator  should  gradually  work  up  to  the 
moving  portion  of  what  he  has  to  say.  In  a  majority 
of  cases,  too,  more  than  one  climax  should  be  made; 
there  ought  to  be  several  summits,  after  the  attain- 
ment of  which  the  speaker  returns  quietly  to  the  vales, 
again  to  begin  simply  and  easily  a  new  division  of 
his  work.  It  is,  however,  much  more  common  to  find 
too  many  instead  of  too  few  climaxes;  or  else  to  find 
no  climax  at  all,  the  address  being  placed  on  a  high 
key  at  the  beginning,  and  maintained  there  through- 
out. At  first,  such  a  method  may  seem  forcible  and 
convincing,  but  the  impression  does  not  last  long;  in- 
terest soon  gives  way  to  neglect;  monotony  is  fol- 
lowed by  inattention.  Light  and  shade  are  among  the 
most  essential  qualities  of  an  oration,  but  they  are 
qualities  which  few  speakers,  even  those  of  experience, 
have  wholly  mastered.  The  moderate  use  of  the 
strongest  appeal  following  graceful,  winning  passages 
of  little  intensity;  the  whole  carefully  modulated;  the 
climaxes  skillfully  worked  up — these  are  the  character- 
istics of  the  greatest  orations.  But  too  often  in  their 
place  we  have  a  single  appeal  of  uniform  emphasis,  or 
else  a  series  of  explosions,  weak  and  tiresome  in  their 
frequency  and  in  the  wholesale  lack  of  judgment  and 
feeling  which  they  display. 

It  would,  however,  be  manifestly  unfair  to  infer 
from  this  that  appeals  to  the  emotions,  which  are  the 
end  of  all  great  oratory,  can  be  regulated  with  geo- 
metrical precision;  that,  after  the  gentler  methods  of 
speech  have  been  exhausted,  the  passions  can  be 
turned  on  to  give  spice  and  adornment  to  the  tale. 
Appeals  to  the  emotions  must  be  spontaneous,  and 


7°  THE.    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

must  arise  directly  and  naturally  from  the  subject  it- 
self, or  they  will  be  wholly  inapt.  To  manage  fervid 
parts  artificially  is  to  destroy  their  force  and  purpose. 
At  the  same  time,  the  orator  must  have  a  keen  appre- 
ciation for  effects,  and  must  deal  with  them  just  as 
coolly  and  as  scientifically  as  the  painter  or  composer; 
his  imagination  and  passion  must  no  more  be  let  run 
riot  than  theirs,  for,  in  either  case,  chaos  is  the  inevi- 
table result.  The  speaker  has  at  his  command  certain 
means  by  which  his  ends  are  produced;  these  he  must 
use  thoughtfully  and  with  discretion;  he  must  see  that 
certain  ideas  can  be  introduced  much  more  effectively 
in  one  place  than  in  another;  and  he  must  be  able  to 
lead  up  to  these  ideas,  so  as  to  bring  out  their  whole 
beauty  and  power.  But  all  this,  by  the  accomplished 
speaker,  can  be  done  without  imparting  to  his  work 
the  appearance  of  studied  arrangement.  The  juxta- 
position and  the  massing  of  thoughts  and  facts  may 
have  been  hit  upon  only  after  repeated  efforts,  but  the 
result  may  be  so  harmonious  and  natural  as  to  seem 
wholly  unsought  for.  It  is  not  care-taking  structure 
that  mars  an  oration;  it  is  the  undue  evidence  of  the 
labor;  the  art  which  is  no  more  than  artificiality. 

Some  writers  in  dealing  with  the  oration  justify,  as 
a  kind  of  subdivision,  what  is  known  as  the  excursus. 
The  excursus  may  be  placed  after  any  one  of  the  pre- 
liminary parts,  or  in  the  discussion.  Its  function  is 
to  give  the  orator  the  chance  to  say  anything  he 
may  wish  under  a  head  not  at  once  derivable  from 
his  topic;  here,  if  he  will  soon  return  to  resume  the 
plan  of  his  discourse,  he  may  wander  for  a  moment  in 
foreign  fields.  The  whole  notion  of  an  excursus  in 
speaking  is  pernicious.  If  an  idea  belongs  to  a  topic, 


THE  THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  79 

and  by  being  introduced  will  lend  interest  and  thor- 
oughness to  the  treatment,  it  should  be  made  a  regular 
part  of  the  oration;  if  it  cannot  be  brought  in  thus  it 
should  be  omitted  entirely.  It  must  contribute  directly 
to  the  development,  or,  however  beautiful  and  striking 
in  itself  it  may  be,  it  should  have  no  place.  The  be- 
fogging of  the  audience,  the  turning  of  their  minds 
from  the  regular  channel  of  the  speech,  does  far  more 
harm  than  can  be  retrieved  by  supervenient  observa- 
tions no  matter  how  profound.  In  too  many  speeches 
there  are  parts  which  a  careful  editor,  having  his  mind 
only  on  the  effect  produced,  can  strike  out  bodily, 
without  in  the  least  disturbing  the  structure  or  de- 
stroying the  continuity  of  the  thought. 

In  dealing  with  the  discussion  in  an  argumentative 
address,  a  little  more  definite  treatment  is  possible,  and 
some  slight  reversal  of  the  rules  laid  down  is  neces- 
sary. The  discussion  of  an  argument  constitutes  the 
proof.  The  preliminary  parts  have  explained  and  de- 
fined the  question  and  made  its  bearing  clear;  in  the 
partition  the  exact  points  at  issue  have  been  deter- 
mined; now  comes  the  proof  of  the  issues.  Each  di- 
vision is  taken  up  separately  and  in  order,  and,  so  far 
as  is  possible,  proved  one  way  or  another.  The  evi- 
dence, the  facts  which  the  speaker  in  the  course  of  his 
reading  and  cogitation  has  chanced  upon,  are  placed 
under  appropriate  heads  and  subheads;  the  ideas  are 
marshaled  one  after  another  with  cogency  and  force; 
nothing  is  left  unsaid  that  will  tend  toward  abso- 
lute conviction  in  the  minds  of  the  audience.  The  dis- 
cussion is  the  scientific  demonstration,  by  means  of 
argument  and  evidence,  of  the  points  in  dispute. 

This  demonstration  is,  moreover,  usually  the  result 


8o  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

of  two  different  processes :  proof  may  be  either  direct, 
the  statement  of  affirmative  points;  or  indirect,  the 
statement  of  points  in  answer  to  arguments  advanced 
by  an  opponent — that  is,  refutation.  Cicero,  it  will  be 
remembered,  made  a  division  of  proof  with  reference 
to  these  classes,  calling  direct  proof,  confirmation,  and 
indirect  proof,  confutation.  Although  it  is  unneces- 
sary, and,  since  the  two  blend  so  constantly  into  each 
other,  a  little  unwise  to  distinguish  between  them  thus, 
the  expert  in  argumentation  never  forgets  that  one  is 
almost  as  important  as  the  other.  No  matter  how  valid 
may  be  a  series  of  arguments  on  one  side,  their  force 
can  be  totally  destroyed  by  a  single  unanswered  point 
on  the  other ;  and  in  such  a  situation  much  more  will  be 
gained  by  replying  to  the  negative  point,  even  incon- 
clusively, than  by  dwelling  throughout  on  affirmative 
issues.  Refutation,  furthermore,  goes  deep  into  the 
very  roots  of  argument.  A  speaker  may  be  called 
upon  not  only  to  meet  assertions  directed  against  the 
main  contentions  of  his  case,  but  each  subsidiary  idea 
that  he  introduces  in  support  of  the  main  conten- 
tions may  also  be  the  object  of  attack.  The  value  of 
the  evidence  may  be  controverted ;  what  a  point  proves 
may  be  disputed;  and  before  these  ideas  can  be  ranged 
in  proper  support  of  the  main  issues,  the  speaker  may 
be  obliged  to  undertake  very  elaborate  refutation  in 
their  behalf.  Few  characteristics  are  more  essential 
for  the  orator  than  the  faculty  to  see  just  where  his 
advances  are  to  be  encountered  and  how  he  can  meet 
and  overcome  the  attacks. 

The  arrangement  of  a  forensic  oration  is  frequently 
different  from  that  of  an  expository  address.  In  an 
expository  address,  as  was  said,  the  law  of  climax  is 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  8 1 

usually  followed;  the  development  is  from  the  less  to 
the  greater.  But  in  the  argument  the  more  impor- 
tant points  can  often  be  placed  advantageously  first. 
Sometimes  the  opening  division  may  be  one  in  direct 
argument,  sometimes  one  in  refutation.  The  rule  is 
that  whenever  any  point  in  refutation  is  so  emphatic 
as  to  impede,  until  it  is  answered,  the  affirmative  argu- 
ment, it  should  be  placed  first;  otherwise  it  should  be 
brought  in  toward  the  end.  The  reason  for  putting 
the  stronger  points  at  the  beginning  is  that  they  pro- 
duce here  their  greatest  effect;  after  a  predisposition 
has  been  gained,  weaker  arguments  can  be  brought 
out  and  weaker  refutation  used  without  so  materially 
damaging  the  case.  There  has  always  been  much  dis- 
cussion as  to  the  value  of  stating,  either  in  direct  argu- 
ment or  in  refutation,  points  which  cannot  be  fully 
proved.  Some  have  maintained  that  such  points 
should  be  omitted  altogether;  others  that  they  should 
be  placed  as  tactfully  as  possible  and  made  the  most 
of.  Certainly,  when  inconclusive  propositions  are  em- 
ployed, the  best  place  for  them  is  where  their  insuffi- 
ciency will  be  least  noticed,  preferably  in  the  middle 
of  the  speech,  between  two  ideas  which  carry  greater 
conviction.  The  moment  of  doubt  will  thus  be  de- 
layed by  what  precedes,  and  safe  ground  will  be 
reached  before  the  element  of  uncertainty  has  long 
worked. 

The  question  of  what  in  the  fullest  sense  constitutes 
proof  is  one  rather  too  intricate  and  difficult  to  enter 
upon  here,  and  may  be  dismissed  with  the  mere  indi- 
cation of  the  two  general  divisions  into  which  the  sub- 
ject falls.  These  divisions  are:  argument  and  evi- 
dence. Argument  is  that  form  of  demonstration 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

•which  the  speaker  draws  from  his  own  mind,  and  its 
value  depends  on  the  common  experience  of  the  hear- 
ers and  the  reputation  of  the  speaker.  If  the  one  who 
makes  the  statement  is  an  authority  on  the  subject, 
his  words  have  weight  just  to  the  extent  that  his 
authority  is  recognized  and  his  veracity  unquestioned. 
If  he  is  not  an  expert,  the  value  of  what  he  says  de- 
pends wholly  on  common  experience;  if  it  commends 
itself  to  the  audience  it  will  be  effective;  otherwise  not. 
The  character  and  intelligence  of  an  audience  thus  de- 
termine, to  a  considerable  degree,  the  worth  of  argu- 
ment; what  a  scientific  body  would  accept  unhesitat- 
ingly might  be  wholly  inadequate  before  a  popular 
assembly. 

The  second  form  of  proof  is  that  of  evidence;  not 
what  the  speaker  extracts  from  his  own  mind,  but 
what  he  gathers  from  the  writings  and  words  of  others. 
And  the  test  of  evidence  is  the  same  as  one  of  the  tests 
of  argument:  the  authority  of  the  person  or  work  from 
whence  the  matter  is  derived.  The  chance  saying  re- 
ported by  a  newspaper  is  of  infinitely  less  value  as 
evidence  than  the  same  statement  made  by  the  same 
person  in  a  public  report  or  printed  review.  Where, 
when,  and  by  whom,  are  the  questions  on  which  the 
reliability  of  proof  rests.  To  make  a  quotation  or  to 
cite  figures  is  not  enough;  an  audience  must  be  told 
by  whom,  and  under  what  conditions,  the  words  were 
uttered,  and  whether  the  figures  are  from  a  reliable 
document  or  are  those  hastily  compiled  from  un- 
authorized sources.  This  faculty  of  bringing  out  the 
character  of  evidence  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  con- 
vincing argumentation. 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  83 


XII.   THE  CONCLUSION. 

The  only  division  of  the  oration  that  now  remains 
to  be  spoken  of  is  the  conclusion,  often  called  the  per- 
oration. The  purpose  of  the  conclusion  is  usually  rec- 
ognized to  be  twofold:  to  recapitulate,  and  to  arouse 
the  passions.  Aristotle,  whose  analyses  are  generally 
so  penetrating,  did  indeed  add  to  these  two  other  func- 
tions: that  of  rendering  the  hearers  favorable  to  the 
speaker  and  ill-disposed  to  his  adversary,  and  that  of 
amplification  and  extenuation;  but  the  first  may 
rightly  be  regarded  as  a  part  of  the  general  purpose 
of  arousing  the  passions;  while  the  last  is  purely 
factitious. 

A  conclusion  with  a  summary  is  found  particularly 
in  forensic  and  deliberative  orations,  sometimes  in  ser- 
mons, but  rarely  in  demonstrative  efforts.  Thus  it 
pertains  to  orations  of  the  argumentative  rather  than 
the  narrative  or  expository  type.  The  summary  is  the 
recapitulation  of  the  cardinal  points  which  have  been 
touched  upon  in  a  discourse.  The  speaker  goes  back 
to  the  issues  and  restates  the  case  again  briefly,  dwell- 
ing as  well  on  the  contentions  of  his  opponent  as  upon 
the  facts  advanced  by  himself  d  rectly.  The  object  is 
to  refresh  the  memory  of  the  audience,  to  enforce  the 
essential  parts,  and  to  leave  a  convincing  impression. 
Only  the  important  ideas,  however,  those  on  which  the 
two  sides  clash,  need  be  regarded  with  much  care; 
and  all  new  matter,  since  it  tends  to  divert  the 
attention  from  the  retrospection,  should  be  excluded. 
The  points  which  are  reviewed  should  not  be  recalled 
simply  in  the  same  phrases  in  which  they  were  first 
mentioned,  for  this  is  exceedingly  tiresome;  they 


84  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

should  be  presented  with  some  freshness  and  variety, 
although  the  audience  should  never  be  led  to  regard 
them  as  something  new. 

The  other  purpose  of  the  conclusion,  to  make  a 
final  appeal  to  the  emotions,  is  now  hardly  ever  omit- 
ted, although  in  classic  oratory  there  was  much  di- 
vergence in  the  practice.  In  Athens,  in  a  forensic 
discourse,  a  direct  appeal  was  not  countenanced;  the 
speaker  had  to  confine  himself  scrupulously  to  a  logi- 
cal demonstration.  In  Rome,  on  the  other  hand,  so 
unrestricted  was  the  use  of  the  pathetic  that  all  sorts 
of  ingenious  devices  could  be  called  into  service.  The 
weeping  children  of  the  prisoner  on  trial,  the  wounds 
of  the  victim,  the  implements  with  which  the  act  was 
committed,  might  be  brought  forward  by  the  advocate 
to  engage  sympathy  and  to  secure  the  verdict.  Now- 
adays, of  course,  such  perversions  of  argument  are 
permitted  neither  in  the  conclusion  nor  in  the  other 
parts  of  the  oration ;  the  speaker  has  no  means  except 
words  at  his  command.  The  underlying  purpose  or 
idea  of  the  speech  is  the  one  to  be  insisted  upon  in  the 
final  appeal.  If  the  object  is  to  secure  a  certain  ver- 
dict, or  to  lead  men  to  vote  in  a  certain  way,  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  which  have  been  most  in  ques- 
tion must  be  dwelt  upon;  if  it  was  the  teachings  of  a 
noble  life  or  a  great  event  that  has  formed  the  subject, 
the  essence  of  the  principle  which  the  orator  wishes  to 
inculcate  must  have  place.  Whatever  is  the  impres- 
sion to  be  conveyed,  whatever  is  the  end  to  be  accom- 
plished— this  should  form  the  burden,  the  motive  of 
the  conclusion. 

In  no  other  part  of  the  oration  does  the  orator  have 
so  great  an  opportunity  to  prove  his  genius  and  his 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  85 

eloquence  as  in  the  conclusion.  In  the  introduction 
he  is  frequently  hampered  by  the  newness  of  his 
theme  and  the  lack  of  any  real  sympathy  on  the  part 
of  his  audience;  in  the  body  of  the  address  he  must  be 
busy  maintaining  his  thesis  and  elaborating  his  evi- 
dence; but  in  the  conclusion  no  such  limitations  are 
possible.  The  whole  speech  has  been  given  to  pre- 
pare the  hearers  for  this  part;  the  speaker's  skill  as  a 
logician  and  philosopher  has  been  fully  demon- 
strated; he  is  now  entirely  free  for  whatever  flight  his 
ability  may  permit.  The  incentive,  too,  which  urges 
him  is  greater  at  this  than  at  any  other  time.  In  a 
moment  the  jury  will  retire,  the  vote  on  the  bill  will  be 
taken,  the  cause  will  go  forth  to  ride  on  the  great  sea 
of  public  opinion,  unsupported  by  any  further 
words.  Well,  therefore,  may  power  and  ingenuity  be 
exerted  to  the  utmost ;  well  may  the  peroration  be  the 
sublimest  part  of  the  work. 

Never  should  tbe  conclusion  be  much  prolonged. 
The  speech  proper  is  finished;  this  is  the  parting  word; 
and,  like  all  parting  words,  it  should  not  be  amplified 
or  repeated.  To  hold  an  audience  when  they  are  in 
this  state  of  expectancy  is  not  only  to  vex  them;  it  may 
seriously  endanger  the  effect  of  the  whole  oration. 
All  that  is  said  should  be  brief  and  to  the  point;  as 
striking  and  impelling  as  possible;  but  never  so 
long  as  to  lose  for  a  moment  the  attention  of  a  single 
hearer. 

XIII.   THE  PREPARATION  OF  SPEECHES. 

Nearly  every  speaker,  very  early  in  his  career, 
adopts  some  method  which  he  follows  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  his  work.  These  methods,  as  is  perfectly 


86  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

natural,  owing  to  many  differences  in  temperament, 
in  training,  and  in  mental  habits,  are  often  widely  di- 
vergent :  what  one  man  finds  exceedingly  helpful  may 
be  to  another  laborious  and  unfruitful;  and  so,  only 
with  caution  can  anyone  write  of  the  best,  or  even  a 
profitable  plan  for  another  to  pursue  in  the  making  of 
a  speech.  Still,  some  observation  has  shown  that  a 
great  number  of  public  speakers  in  performing  the 
same  task  go  about  it  in  much  the  same  way;  and  a 
brief  statement  of  what  this  way  is  seems  worthy  of  a 
place  here. 

Manifestly  the  first  requisite  in  the  making  of  a 
speech  is  to  secure  a  topic;  but,  as  this  part  of  the 
preparation  has  already  received  some  attention  above, 
it  need  not  be  enlarged  upon  now.  Granted  a  topic, 
the  next  step  is  to  procure  material.  Perhaps  as  good 
a  way  as  any  to  begin  is  for  the  speaker  to  meditate 
long  and  earnestly  on  his  subject,  in  order  to  recall 
all  the  ideas  that  he  has  upon  it.  These  ideas  should 
then  be  placed  on  a  sheet  of  paper,  which  for  many 
days  after  should  be  kept  near  at  hand  to  receive 
other  and  possibly  more  important  points,  that  have 
before  eluded  discovery.  The  purpose  is  to  evolve  as 
much  as  can  be  from  within,  for  although  there  is  little 
positive  guarantee  that  suggestions  derived  in  this 
manner  will  be  original,  they  are  more  than  likely  to 
bear  the  personal  stamp  which  is  so  highly  desirable. 
When  the  stock  of  his  own  ideas  has  been  exhausted, 
the  speaker  may  turn  to  seek  inspiration  from  other 
sources.  He  will,  in  all  probability,  go  at  once  to 
literature;  but  he  will  do  well  to  avoid  books  and  arti- 
cles bearing  directly  upon  his  theme;  rather,  he  will 
peruse  such  matter  as  will  furnish  food  for  reflection, 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  87 

not  that  which  he  might  make  use  of  with  little 
change.  Thus,  if  he  is  to  discuss  the  career  of  Wash- 
ington, a  good  history  of  the  Revolution  and  the 
period  following  it  will  better  suit  his  purpose  than  a 
critical  biography  of  the  great  man.  The  reading  of 
books  of  the  former  class  will  get  the  mind  to  working 
in  sympathetic  channels  and  will  furnish  data  from 
which  original  observations  and  generalizations  can  be 
drawn,  but  it  will  not  prove  a  source  of  vexation  or 
temptation.  To  be  sure,  if  biographical  or  historical 
matter  is  to  be  incorporated,  the  best  authorities  may 
at  once  be  consulted  and  freely  drawn  upon;  for  the 
orator  cannot  be  expected  to  work  as  the  historian, 
gleaning  all  his  facts  first-hand.  But,  aside  from  such 
cases,  reading  should  principally  be  for  the  purpose  of 
suggestion. 

The  reading  having  been  accomplished  and  a  con- 
siderable body  of  notes  and  observations  having  been 
brought  together,  the  next  step  is  to  select  the  ideas 
which  shall  be  used,  and  to  arrange  them.  For  this 
purpose  the  speaker  can  best  provide  himself  with  a 
number  of  sheets  of  paper,  each  of  which  will  repre- 
sent a  given  part  of  the  oration.  One  slip  will  be 
labeled  introduction,  another  narration,  and  so  on 
until  all  the  parts  have  been  cared  for.  Turning  then 
to  his  jottings,  he  will  go  through  them  very  carefully 
a  number  of  times,  and  such  points  as  he  thinks  well 
of  he  will  transfer  to  the  slip  of  paper  to  which  it  be- 
longs. A  miniature  brief  will  thus  be  constructed; 
the  general  divisions  and  the  ideas  which  may  be 
amplified  under  them  will  begin  to  be  evident.  But 
just  here  it  will  probably  be  apparent  that  some  points 
which  before  seemed  of  slight  importance  could,  if 


THE   THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

fuller  treatment  were  given  them,  be  made  of  greater 
value;  in  other  words,  that  more  reading  and  thought 
along  certain  lines  is  necessary.  So  the  steps  may 
have  to  be  retraced,  and  further  time  expended  before 
the  outlines  of  the  work  seem  wholly  satisfactory. 

The  only  other  duty  that  remains  is  to  put  the  ora- 
tion into  its  final  form ;  and  this  is  where  the  individual 
preference  of  speakers  differs  most  widely.  In  gen- 
eral there  are  three  forms  into  which  a  speech  may  be 
cast  before  being  delivered:  it  may  be  wholly  written 
and  committed  to  memory;  none  of  it  may  be  written 
or  learned;  parts  of  it  may  be  written  and  learned 
and  parts  spoken  extemporaneously.  Usually  speak- 
ers begin  with  the  first  method;  many  learn  to  follow 
the  second;  while  the  last  is  probably  the  best  of  the 
three. 

At  the  outset  nearly  every  neophyte  has  to  learn 
his  speeches  by  heart.  Confidence  must  be  acquired; 
attention  must  be  devoted  to  the  manner  of  delivery; 
the  chance  of  not  saying  what  one  wished  to  say  can- 
not be  risked;  and  hence  the  discourse  is  written  out 
and  learned  by  heart,  as  is  perfectly  proper  it  should 
be.  The  ancients  nearly  always  did  this,  and  the  culti- 
vation of  the  memory  was  formerly  a  part  of  nearly 
every  orator's  training  and  qualifications.  But  if 
there  were  any  danger  that  this  method  would  now  be 
followed  by  a  very  great  number  of  men  a  slight  cau- 
tion against  it  would  be  in  place.  In  reality  it  puts 
the  speaker  at  a  great  disadvantage;  audiences  do 
not  care  for  a  memorized  speech,  and  only  by  the 
most  consummate  art  can  they  be  deceived.  Further- 
more, the  speaker  whose  address  is  written  is  pre- 
vented from  taking  advantage  of  suggestions  of  the 


THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY.  89 

moment;  from  meeting  retort  with  retort;  from  weav- 
ing together  subtly  his  own  arguments  and  his  reply 
to  his  opponent;  in  short,  from  making  the  most  of 
his  opportunities.  Especially,  therefore,  for  the  de- 
liberative or  forensic  orator,  the  habitual  use  of  this 
method  is  very  unfortunate.  There  is,  however,  not 
a  great  deal  of  danger  that  many  will  long  follow  it; 
the  great  labor  that  it  imposes  is  alone  sufficient  to 
bring  its  abandonment  after  a  little  facility,  ease,  and 
confidence  have  been  acquired. 

So  we  come  to  the  second  method,  which  is  to 
commit  nothing  to  memory,  to  rely  solely  on  the  con- 
cisely stated  outline.  The  many  advantages  of  being 
able  to  speak  after  such  preparation  are  evident:  every 
suggestion  of  the  occasion,  every  frown  or  ripple  that 
passes  over  the  audience  may  be  seized  upon  and  turned 
to  good  account;  that  sparkle  and  glamour  of  instant 
reply  which  assemblies  so  delight  in  maybe  indulged  in 
to  the  utmost.  And  yet,  except  in  the  case  of  unusual 
men,  this  method,  for  one  who  aspires  to  great  oratory, 
probably  has  less,  by  a  good  deal,  to  commend  it  than 
any  other.  The  inspiration  which  such  a  plan  neces- 
sitates is  not  always  forthcoming,  and  when  it  is 
absent,  platitudes  and  vacuity  only  can  be  hoped  for. 
Again,  taking  a  discourse  as  a  whole,  not  even  the 
most  gifted  person  can  build  so  fine  a  structure  with- 
out a  pen  as  with  one;  writing  demands  accurate 
thinking;  improvised  speaking  permits  and  en- 
courages very  loose  thinking.  Separate  passages  of 
great  brilliancy  may  be  struck  off  at  the  moment,  but 
their  power  is  certain  to  be  diminished  by  paragraphs 
which  are  irrelevant  and  sentences  that  are  impos- 
sible. If  anvone  wishes  to  observe  the  different 


9°  THE    THEORY  OF  ORATORY. 

results  of  careful  preparation  and  extempore  speaking, 
let  him  compare  the  shorthand  reports  of  an  admit- 
tedly extempore  effort  such  as  Webster's  reply  to 
Hayne,  and  the  revision  of  the  same  speech  which  was 
printed  a  month  or  so  afterward. 

It  seems,  therefore,  that  a  combination  of  the  two 
preceding  plans  is,  on  the  whole,  the  best.  Certain 
portions  of  a  speech  should  nearly  always  be  written 
out:  the  conclusion,  for  example;  parts  of  the  narra- 
tion, when  a  precise  statement  of  facts  is  necessary; 
passages  in  the  discussion.  But  opportunity  should 
also  be  left  for  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion,  for  re- 
marking upon  passing  events,  and  replying  to  an 
adversary's  contentions.  In  some  kinds  of  speeches 
more  can  profitably  be  written  than  in  others;  large 
parts  of  sermons  and  demonstrative  orations;  but 
less  of  deliberative  and  forensic  efforts.  Finally,  it 
should  be  noted  that  whatever  is  written  and  spoken 
from  memory  should  be  so  blended  and  interwrought 
with  the  other  parts  of  the  speech  that  not  even  the 
most  watchful  person  can  detect  the  different  elements 
as  they  are  uttered.  Nothing  so  much  destroys  the 
harmony  of  an  oration  as  the  curiously  incongruous 
result  that  comes  from  the  protrusion  of  paragraphs 
prepared  in  different  ways. 


ORATIONS. 


ORATIONS. 


DELIBERATIVE   ORATORY. 

CARL   SCHURZ. 

Born  1829. 
GENERAL   AMNESTY. 

[The  following  speech  was  delivered  in  the  United  States  Senate, 
January  30,  1872,  on  a  bill  for  removing  the  political  disabilities 
imposed  by  the  third  section  of  the  Fourteenth  Amendment  to  the 
Constitution.  This  section  provided  that  no  person  should  be  a 
senator,  representative,  or  presidential  elector,  or  hold  any  civil  or 
military  office  under  the  United  States  or  any  State,  who,  as  a  Federal 
or  State  officer,  had  sworn  to  support  the  Constitution  and  had  after- 
ward engaged  in  the  Rebellion  ;  but  provision  was  made  that  the 
disability  could  be  removed  by  a  two-thirds  vote  of  each  House.  The 
bill  before  Congress  at  this  time  did  not,  however,  aim  to  secure 
general  amnesty,  for  three  classes  of  persons  were  excepted  from 
the  relief  :  members  who  withdrew  from  Congress  and  aided  the 
Rebellion  ;  officers,  over  twenty-one  years  of  age,  who  left  the  Army 
and  Navy  and  aided  the  Rebellion  ;  and  members  of  State  conventions 
who  voted  for  ordinances  of  secession.  The  bill,  failing  to  receive 
the  necessary  two-thirds  vote,  was  defeated.  The  speech  is  reprinted, 
with  the  permission  of  Mr.  Schurz,  from  the  Congressional  Globe.] 

Mr.  President,  when  this  debate  commenced  before 
the  holidays,  I  refrained  from  taking  part  in  it,  and 
from  expressing  my  opinions  on  some  of  the  provi- 


94  CARL   SCHURZ. 

sions  of  the  bill  now  before  us;  hoping  as  I  did  that 
the  measure  could  be  passed  without  difficulty,  and 
that  a  great  many  of  those  who  now  labor  under  politi- 
cal disabilities  would  be  immediately  relieved.  This 
5  expectation  was  disappointed.  An  amendment  *  to 
the  bill  was  adopted.  It  will  have  to  go  back  to  the 
House  of  Representatives  now  unless  by  some  parlia- 
mentary means  we  get  rid  of  the  amendment,  and 
there  being  no  inducement  left  to  waive  what  criti- 

10  cism  we  might  feel  inclined  to  bring  forward,  we  may 
consider  the  whole  question  open. 

I  beg  leave  to  say  that  I  am  in  favor  of  general,  or, 
as  this  word  is  considered  more  expressive,  universal 
amnesty,  believing,  as  I  do,  that  the  reasons  which 

15  make  it  desirable  that  there  should  be  amnesty  granted 
at  all,  make  it  also  desirable  that  the  amnesty  should 
be  universal.  The  senator  from  South  Carolina  [Mr. 
Sawyer]  has  already  given  notice  that  he  will  move  to 
strike  out  the  exceptions  from  the  operation  of  this 

20  act  of  relief  for  which  the  bill  provides.  If  he  had  not 
declared  his  intention  to  that  effect,  I  would  do  so. 
In  any  event,  whenever  he  offers  his  amendment  I 
shall  most  heartily  support  it. 

In  the  course  of  this  debate  we  have  listened  to 

25  some  senators,  as  they  conjured  up  before  our  eyes 
once  more  all  the  horrors  of  the  Rebellion,  the  wicked- 
ness of  its  conception,  how  terrible  its  incidents  were, 
and  how  harrowing  its  consequences.  Sir,  I  admit  it 
all;  I  will  not  combat  the  correctness  of  the  picture' 

30  and  yet  if  I  differ  with  the  gentlemen  who  drew  it,  it  is 

*An  amendment  offered  by  Senator  Morton,  providing  that  the 
act  should  not  relate  back  and  validate  the  election  or  appointment  of 
persons  who  were  ineligible  when  elected. 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  95 

because,  had  the  conception  of  the  Rebellion  been 
still  more  wicked,  had  its  incidents  been  still  more 
terrible,  its  consequences  still  more  harrowing,  I  could 
not  permit  myself  to  forget  that  in  dealing  with  the 
question  now  before  us  we  have  to  deal  not  alone  with  s 
the  past,  but  with  the  present  and  future  interests  of 
this  republic. 

What  do  we  want  to  accomplish  as  good  citizens 
and  patriots?  Do  we  mean  only  to  inflict  upon  the  late 
rebels  pain,  degradation,  mortification,  annoyance,  for  10 
its  own  sake;  to  torture  their  feelings  without  any 
ulterior  purpose?  Certainly  such  a  purpose  could  not 
by  any  possibility  animate  high-minded  men.  I  pre- 
sume, therefore,  that  those  who  still  favor  the  continu- 
ance of  some  of  the  disabilities  imposed  by  the  Four-  15 
teenth  Amendment  do  so  because  they  have  some 
higher  object  of  public  usefulness  in  view,  an  object 
of  public  usefulness  sufficient  to  justify,  in  their  minds 
at  least,  the  denial  of  rights  to  others  which  we  our- 
selves enjoy.  20 

What  can  those  objects  of  public  usefulness  be? 
Let  me  assume  that,  if  we  differ  as  to  the  means  to  be 
employed,  we  are  agreed  as  to  the  supreme  end  and 
aim  to  be  reached.  That  end  and  aim  of  our  endeavors 
can  be  no  other  than  to  secure  to  all  the  States  the  25 
blessings  of  good  and  free  government  and  the  high- 
est degree  of  prosperity  and  well-being  they  can  attain, 
and  to  revive  in  all  citizens  of  this  republic  that  love 
for  the  Union  and  its  institutions,  and  that  inspiring 
consciousness  of  a  common  nationality,  which,  after  30 
all,  must  bind  all  Americans  together. 

What  are  the  best  means  for  the  attainment  of  that 
end?     This,  sir,  as  I  conceive  it,  is  the  only  legitimate 


96  CARL  SCHURZ. 

question  we  have  to  decide.  Certainly  all  will  agree 
that  this  end  is  far  from  having  been  attained  so  far. 
Look  at  the  Southern  States  as  they  stand  before  us 
to-day.  Some  are  in  a  condition  bordering  upon  an- 
5  archy,  not  only  on  account  of  the  social  disorders 
which  are  occurring  there,  or  the  inefficiency  of  their 
local  governments  in  securing  the  enforcement  of  the 
laws;  but  you  will  find  in  many  of  them  fearful  corrup- 
tion pervading  the  whole  political  organization;  a 

10  combination  of  rascality  and  ignorance  wielding  offi- 
cial power;  their  finances  deranged  by  profligate  prac- 
tices; their  credit  ruined;  bankruptcy  staring  them  in 
the  face;  their  industries  staggering  under  a  fearful 
load  of  taxation;  their  property-holders  and  capital- 

15  ists  paralyzed  by  a  feeling  of  insecurity  and  distrust 
almost  amounting  to  despair.  Sir,  let  us  not  try  to 
disguise  these  facts,  for  the  world  knows  them  to  be 
so,  and  knows  it  but  too  well. 

What  are  the  causes  that  have  contributed  to  bring 

20  about  this  distressing  condition?  I  admit  that  great 
civil  wars,  resulting  in  such  vast  social  transformations 
as  the  sudden  abolition  of  slavery,  are  calculated  to 
produce  similar  results;  but  it  might  be  presumed  that 
a  recuperative  power  such  as  this  country  possesses 

25  might,  during  the  time  which  has  elapsed  since  the 
close  of  the  War,  at  least  have  very  materially  allevi- 
ated many  of  the  consequences  of  that  revulsion,  had 
a  wise  policy  been  followed. 

Was  the  policy  we  followed  wise?   Was  it  calculated 

30  to  promote  the  great  purposes  we  are  endeavoring  to 
serve?  Let  us  see.  At  the  close  of  the  War  we  had  to 
establish  and  secure  free  labor  and  the  rights  of  the 
emancipated  class.  To  that  end  we  had  to  disarm 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  97 

those  who  could  have  prevented  this,  and  we  had  to 
give  the  power  of  self-protection  to  those  who  needed 
it.  For  this  reason  temporary  restrictions  were  im- 
posed upon  the  late  rebels,  and  we  gave  the  right  of 
suffrage  to  the  colored  people.  Until  the  latter  were  5 
enabled  to  protect  themselves,  political  disabilities 
even  more  extensive  than  those  which  now  exist  rested 
upon  the  plea  of  eminent  political  necessity.  I  would 
be  the  last  man  to  conceal  that  I  thought  so  then,  and 
I  think  there  was  very  good  reason  for  it.  10 

But,  sir,  when  the  enfranchisement  of  the  colored 
people  was  secured;  when  they  had  obtained  the  po- 
litical means  to  protect  themselves,  then  another 
problem  began  to  loom  up.  It  was  not  only  to  find 
new  guarantees  for  the  rights  of  the  colored  peo- 15 
pie,  but  it  was  to  secure  good  and  honest  gov- 
ernment to  all.  Let  us  not  underestimate  the 
importance  of  that  problem,  for  in  a  great  meas- 
ure it  includes  the  solution  of  the  other.  Cer- 
tainly nothing  could  have  been  more  calculated  20 
to  remove  the  prevailing  discontent  concerning  the 
changes  that  had  taken  place,  and  to  reconcile  men's 
minds  to  the  new  order  of  things,  than  the  tangible 
proof  that  that  new  order  of  things  was  practically 
working  well ;  that  it  could  produce  a  wise  and  eco-  25 
nomical  administration  of  public  affairs,  and  that  it 
would  promote  general  prosperity,  thus  healing  the 
wounds  of  the  past  and  opening  to  all  the  prospect  of 
a  future  of  material  well-being  and  contentment. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  could  have  been  more  30 
calculated  to  impede  a  general,  hearty,  and  honest  ac- 
ceptance of  the  new  order  of  things  by  the  late  rebel 
population  than  just  those  failures  of  public  adminis- 


98  CARL   SCHURZ. 

tration  which  involve  the  people  in  material  embar- 
rassments and  so  seriously  disturb  their  comfort.  In 
fact,  good,  honest,  and  successful  government  in  the 
Southern  States  would  in  its  moral  effects,  in  the  long 
5  run,  have  exerted  a  far  more  beneficial  influence  than 
all  your  penal  legislation,  while  your  penal  legis- 
lation will  fail  in  its  desired  effects  if  we  fail  in  es- 
tablishing in  the  Southern  States  an  honest  and 
successful  administration  of  the  public  business. 

10  Now,  what  happened  in  the  South?  It  is  a  well- 
known  fact  that  the  more  intelligent  classes  of  South- 
ern society  almost  uniformly  identified  themselves 
with  the  Rebellion ;  and  by  our  system  of  political  dis- 
abilities just  those  classes  were  excluded  from  the  man- 

15  agement  of  political  affairs.  That  they  could  not  be 
trusted  with  the  business  of  introducing  into  living 
practice  the  results  of  the  War,  to  establish  true  free 
labor,  and  to  protect  the  rights  of  the  emancipated 
slaves,  is  true;  I  willingly  admit  it.  But  when  those 

20  results  and  rights  were  constitutionally  secured  there 
were  other  things  to  be  done.  Just  at  that  period 
when  the  Southern  States  lay  prostrated  and  ex- 
hausted at  our  feet,  when  the  destructive  besom  of  war 
had  swept  over  them  and  left  nothing  but  desolation 

25  and  ruin  in  its  track,  when  their  material  interests  were 
to  be  built  up  again  with  care  and  foresight — just 
then  the  public  business  demanded,  more  than  ordi- 
narily, the  co-operation  of  all  the  intelligence  and  all 
the  political  experience  that  could  be  mustered  in  the 

30  Southern  States.  But  just  then  a  large  portion  of  that 
intelligence  and  experience  was  excluded  from  the 
management  of  public  affairs  by  political  disabilities, 
and  the  controlling  power  in  those  States  rested  in  a 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  99 

great  measure  in  the  hands  of  those  who  had  but  re- 
cently been  slaves  and  just  emerged  from  that 
condition,  and  in  the  hands  of  others  who  had  some- 
times honestly,  sometimes  by  crooked  means  and  for 
sinister  purposes,  found  a  way  to  their  confidence.  5 

This  was  the  state  of  things  as  it  then  existed. 
Nothing  could  be  further  from  my  intention  than  to 
cast  a  slur  upon  the  character  of  the  colored  people  of 
the  South.  In  fact,  their  conduct  immediately  after 
that  great  event  which  struck  the  shackles  of  slavery  10 
from  their  limbs  was  above  praise.  Look  into  the 
history  of  the  world,  and  you  will  find  that  almost 
every  similar  act  of  emancipation — the  abolition  of 
serfdom,  for  instance — was  uniformly  accompanied  by 
the  atrocious  outbreaks  of  a  revengeful  spirit;  by  the  15 
slaughter  of  nobles  and  their  families,  illumined  by  the 
glare  of  their  burning  castles.  Not  so  here.  While 
all  the  horrors  of  San  Domingo  had  been  predicted 
as  certain  to  follow  upon  emancipation,  scarcely  a  sin- 
gle act  of  revenge  for  injuries  suffered  or  for  misery  20 
endured  has  darkened  the  record  of  the  emancipated 
bondmen  of  America.  And  thus  their  example 
stands  unrivaled  in  history,  and  they,  as  well  as  the 
whole  American  people,  may  well  be  proud  of  it.  Cer- 
tainly, the  Southern  people  should  never  cease  to  re-  25 
member  and  appreciate  it. 

But  while  the  colored  people  of  the  South  earned 
our  admiration  and  gratitude,  I  ask  you  in  all  candor 
could  they  be  reasonably  expected,  when,  just  after 
having  emerged  from  a  condition  of  slavery,  they  30 
were  invested  with  political  rights  and  privileges, 
to  step  into  the  political  arena  as  men  armed  with  the 
intelligence  and  experience  necessary  for  the  manage- 


100  CARL   SCHURZ. 

menf  of  public  affairs  and  for  the  solution  of  prob- 
lems made  doubly  intricate  by  the  disasters  which  had 
desolated  the  Southern  country?  Could  they  reason- 
ably be  expected  to  manage  the  business  of  public  ad- 
5  ministration,  involving  to  so  great  an  extent  the  finan- 
cial interests  and  the  material  well-being  of  the  people, 
and  surrounded  by  difficulties  of  such  fearful  perplex- 
ity, with  the  wisdom  and  skill  required  by  the 
exigencies  of  the  situation?  That  as  a  class  they  were 

10  ignorant  and  inexperienced  and  lacked  a  just  concep- 
tion of  public  interests,  was  certainly  not  their  fault; 
for  those  who  have  studied  the  history  of  the  world 
know  but  too  well  that  slavery  and  oppression  are 
very  bad  political  schools.  But  the  stubborn  fact 

15  remains  that  they  were  ignorant  and  inexperienced ; 
that  the  public  business  was  an  unknown  world 
to  them,  and  that  in  spite  of  the  best  inten- 
tions they  were  easily  misled,  not  infrequently 
by  the  most  reckless  rascality  which  had  found 

20  a  way  to  their  confidence.  Thus  their  political 
rights  and  privileges  were  undoubtedly  well  calcu- 
lated, and  even  necessary,  to  protect  their  rights 
as  free  laborers  and  citizens;  but  they  were  not  well 
calculated  to  secure  a  successful  administration  of 

25  other  public  interests. 

I  do  not  blame  the  colored  people  for  it,  still  less  do 
I  say  that  for  this  reason  their  political  rights  and 
privileges  should  have  been  denied  them.  Nay,  sir,  I 
deemed  it  necessary  then,  and  I  now  reaffirm  that 

30  opinion,  that  they  should  possess  those  rights  and 
privileges  for  the  permanent  establishment  of  the  logi- 
cal and  legitimate  results  of  the  War  and  the  protec- 
tion of  their  new  position  in  society.  But,  while  never 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  101 

losing  sight  of  this  necessity,  I  do  say  that  the  inevi- 
table consequence  of  the  admission  of  so  large  an 
uneducated  and  inexperienced  class  to  political  power, 
as  to  the  probable  mismanagement  of  the  material  in- 
terests of  the  social  body,  should  at  least  have  been  5 
mitigated  by  a  counterbalancing  policy.  When  igno- 
rance and  inexperience  were  admitted  to  so  large  an 
influence  upon  public  affairs,  intelligence  ought  no 
longer  to  so  large  an  extent  to  have  been  excluded. 
In  other  words,  when  universal  suffrage  was  granted  10 
to  secure  the  equal  rights  of  all,  universal  amnesty 
ought  to  have  been  granted  to  make  all  the  resources 
of  political  intelligence  and  experience  available  for 
the  promotion  of  the  welfare  of  all. 

But  what   did   we   do?    To   the   uneducated   and  *5 
inexperienced     classes — uneducated     and     inexperi- 
enced,   I    repeat,    entirely    without    their    fault — we 
opened  the  road  to  power;  and,  at  the  same  time,  we 
condemned  a  large  proportion  of  the  intelligence  of 
those  States,  of  the  property-holding,  the  industrial,  20 
the  professional,  the  tax-paying  interest,  to  a  worse 
than  passive  attitude.     We  made  it,  as  it  were,  easy 
for  rascals  who  had  gone  South  in  quest  of  profitable 
adventure  to  gain  the  control  of  masses  so  easily  mis- 
led, by  permitting  them  to  appear  as  the  exponents  25 
and  representatives  of  the  national  power  and  of  our 
policy;  and  at  the  same  time  we  branded  a  large  num- 
ber of  men  of  intelligence,  and  many  of  them  of  per- 
sonal integrity,  whose  material  interests  were  so  largely 
involved  in  honest  government,  and  many  of  whom  30 
would  have  co-operated  in  managing  the  public  busi- 
ness with  care  and  foresight — we  branded  them,  I  say, 
as  outcasts;  telling  them  that  they  ought  not  to  be 


102  CARL   SCHURZ. 

suffered  to  exercise  any  influence  upon  the  manage- 
ment of  the  public  business,  and  it  would  be  unwar- 
rantable presumption  in  them  to  attempt  it. 

I  ask  you,  sir,  could  such  things  fail  to  contribute 
5  to  the  results  we  to-day  read  in  the  political  corruption 
and  demoralization,  and  in  the  financial  ruin  of  some 
of  the  Southern  States?  These  results  are  now  before 
us.  The  mistaken  policy  may  have  been  pardonable 
when  these  consequences  were  still  a  matter  of  conjec- 

10  ture  and  speculation;  but  what  excuse  have  we  now 
for  continuing  it  when  those  results  are  clear  before 
our  eyes,  beyond  the  reach  of  contradiction? 

These  considerations  would   seem  to  apply  more 
particularly  to  those  Southern  States  where  the  col- 

15  ored  element  constitutes  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 

voting  body.     There  is  another  which  applies  to  all. 

When  the  Rebellion  stood  in  arms  against  us,  we 

fought  and  overcame  force  by  force.     That  was  right. 

When  the  results  of  the  War  were  first  to  be  estab- 

20  lished  and  fixed,  we  met  the  resistance  they  encoun- 
tered with  that  power  which  the  fortune  of  war  and  the 
revolutionary  character  of  the  situation  had  placed  at 
our  disposal.  The  feelings  and  prejudices  which  then 
stood  in  our  way  had  under  such  circumstances  but 

25  little,  if  any,  claim  to  our  consideration.  But  when 
the  problem  presented  itself  of  securing  the  perma- 
nency, the  peaceable  development,  and  the  successful 
working  of  the  new  institutions  we  had  introduced 
into  our  political  organism,  we  had  as  wise  men  to 

30  take  into  careful  calculation  the  moral  forces  we  had 
to  deal  with;  for  let  us  not  indulge  in  any  delusion 
about  this:  what  is  to  be  permanent  in  a  republic  like 
this  must  be  supported  by  public  opinion ;  it  must  rest 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  103 

at  least  upon  the  willing  acquiescence  of  a  large  and 
firm  majority  of  the  people. 

The  introduction  of  the  colored  people,  the  late 
slaves,  into  the  body-politic  as  voters,  pointedly 
affronted  the  traditional  prejudices  prevailing  among  5 
the  Southern  whites.  What  should  we  care  about 
those  prejudices?  In  war,  nothing.  After  the  close 
of  the  War,  in  the  settlement  of  peace,  not  enough  to 
deter  us  from  doing  what  was  right  and  necessary; 
and  yet,  still  enough  to  take  them  into  account  when  10 
considering  the  manner  in  which  right  and  necessity 
were  to  be  served.  Statesmen  will  care  about  popular 
prejudices  as  physicians  will  care  about  the  diseased 
condition  of  their  patients,  which  they  want  to  amelio- 
rate. Would  it  not  have  been  wise  for  us,  looking  at  15 
those  prejudices  as  a  morbid  condition  of  the  Southern 
mind,  to  mitigate,  to  assuage,  to  disarm  them  by  pru- 
dent measures,  and  thus  to  weaken  their  evil  influence? 
We  desired  the  Southern  whites  to  accept  in  good 
faith  universal  suffrage,  to  recognize  the  political  20 
rights  of  the  colored  man,  and  to  protect  him  in  their 
exercise.  Was  not  that  our  sincere  desire?  But  if 
it  was,  would  it  not  have  been  wise  to  remove  as 
much  as  possible  the  obstacles  that  stood  in  the  way 
of  that  consummation?  But  what  did  we  do?  When  25 
we  raised  the  colored  people  to  the  rights  of  active 
citizenship  and  opened  to  them  all  the  privileges  of 
eligibility,  we  excluded  from  those  privileges  a  large 
and  influential  class  of  whites;"  in  other  words,  we 
lifted  the  late  slave,  uneducated  and  inexperienced  as  30 
he  was, — I  repeat,  without  his  fault, — not  merely  to  the 
level  of  the  late  master  class,  but  even  above  it.  We 
asked  certain  white  men  to  recognize  the  colored  man 


104  CARL    SCHURZ. 

in  a  political  status  not  only  as  high  but  even  higher 
than  their  own.  We  might  say  that  under  the  cir- 
cumstances we  had  a  perfect  right  to  do  that,  and  I 
will  not  dispute  it;  but  I  ask  you  most  earnestly,  sir, 

5  was  it  wise  to  do  it?  If  you  desired  the  white  man  to 
accept  and  recognize  the  political  equality  of  the  black, 
was  it  wise  to  imbitter  and  exasperate  his  spirit  with 
the  stinging  stigma  of  his  own  inferiority?  Was  it 
wise  to  withhold  from  him  privileges  in  the  enjoyment 

10  of  which  he  was  to  protect  the  late  slave?  This  was 
not  assuaging,  disarming  prejudice;  this  was  rather 
inciting,  it  was  exasperating  it.  American  statesmen 
will  understand  and  appreciate  human  nature  as  it 
has  developed  itself  under  the  influence  of  free  insti- 

15  tutions.  We  know  that  if  we  want  any  class  of  peo- 
ple to  overcome  their  prejudices  in  respecting  the 
political  rights  and  privileges  of  any  other  class,  the 
very  first  thing  we  have  to  do  is  to  accord  the  same 
rights  and  privileges  to  them.  No  American  was 

20  ever  inclined  to  recognize  in  others  public  rights  and 
privileges  from  which  he  himself  was  excluded;  and 
for  aught  I  know,  in  this  very  feeling,  although  it  may 
take  an  objectionable  form,  we  find  one  of  the  safe- 
guards of  popular  liberty. 

25  You  tell  me  that  the  late  rebels  had  deserved  all  this 
in  the  way  of  punishment.  Granting  that,  I  beg  leave 
to  suggest  that  this  is  not  the  question.  The  question 
is:  What  were  the  means  best  calculated  to  overcome 
the  difficulties  standing  in  the  way  of  a  willing  and  uni- 

30  versal  recognition  of  the  new  rights  and  privileges  of 
the  emancipated  class?  What  were  the  means  to  over- 
come the  hostile  influences  impeding  the  development 
of  the  harmony  of  society  in  its  new  order?  I  am  far 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  105 

from  asserting  that,  had  no  disabilities  existed,  uni- 
versal suffrage  would  have  been  received  by  the  South- 
ern whites  with  universal  favor.  No,  sir,  most 
probably  it  would  not;  but  I  do  assert  that  the  exist- 
ence of  disabilities,  which  put  so  large  and  influential  5 
a  class  of  whites  in  point  of  political  privileges  below 
the  colored  people,  could  not  fail  to  inflame  those 
prejudices  which  stood  in  the  way  of  a  general  and 
honest  acceptance  of  the  new  order  of  things;  they 
increased  instead  of  diminishing  the  dangers  and  diffi- 10 
culties  surrounding  the  emancipated  class ;  and  nobody 
felt  that  more  keenly  than  the  colored  people  of  the 
South  themselves.  To  their  honor  be  it  said,  follow- 
ing a  just  instinct,  they  were  among  the  very  first,  not 
only  in  the  South  but  all  over  the  country,  in  entreat-  15 
ing  Congress  to  remove  those  odious  discriminations 
which  put  in  jeopardy  their  own  rights  by  making 
them  greater  than  those  of  others.  From  the  colored 
people  themselves,  it  seems,  we  have  in  this  respect 
received  a  lesson  in  statesmanship.  20 

Well,  then,  what  policy  does  common  sense  sug- 
gest to  us  now?  If  we  sincerely  desire  to  give  to  the 
Southern  States  good  and  honest  government,  ma- 
terial prosperity,  and  measurable  contentment,  as  far 
at  least  as  we  can  contribute  to  that  end ;  if  we  really  25 
desire  to  weaken  and  disarm  those  prejudices  and  re- 
sentments which  still  disturb  the  harmony  of  society, 
will  it  not  be  wise,  will  it  not  be  necessary,  will  it  not 
be  our  duty  to  show  that  we  are  in  no  sense  the  allies 
and  abettors  of  those  who  use  their  political  power  30 
to  plunder  their  fellow-citizens,  and  that  we  do  not 
mean  to  keep  one  class  of  people  in  unnecessary 
degradation  by  withholding  from  them  rights  and 


to6  CARL  SCHUR2. 

privileges  which  all  others  enjoy?  Seeing  the  mis- 
chief which  the  system  of  disabilities  is  accomplishing, 
is  it  not  time  that  there  should  be  at  least  an  end  of  it; 
or  is  there  any  good  it  can  possibly  do  to  make  up  for 

5  the  harm  it  has  already  wrought  and  is  still  working? 

Look  at  it.     Do  these  disabilities  serve  in  any  way 

to  protect  anybody  in  his  rights  or  in  his  liberty  or 

in  his  property  or  in  his  life?     Does  the  fact  that  some 

men  are  excluded  from  office,  in  any  sense  or  measure, 

10  make  others  more  secure  in  their  lives  or  in  their  prop- 
erty or  in  their  rights?  Can  anybody  tell  me  how? 
Or  do  they,  perhaps,  prevent  even  those  who  are  ex- 
cluded from  official  position  from  doing  mischief  if 
they  are  mischievously  inclined?  Does  the  exclusion 

15  from  office,  does  any  feature  of  ypur  system  of  political 
disabilities,  take  the  revolver  or  the  bowie-knife  or  the 
scourge  from  the  hands  of  anyone  who  wishes  to  use 
it?  Does  it  destroy  the  influence  of  the  more  intelli- 
gent upon  society,  if  they  mean  to  use  that  influence 

20  for  mischievous  purposes? 

We  hear  the  Ku  Klux  *  outrages  spoken  of  as  a  rea- 
son why  political  disabilities  should  not  be  removed. 
Did  not  these  very  same  Ku  Klux  outrages  happen 
while  disabilities  were  in  existence?  Is  it  not  clear, 

25  then,  that  the  existence  of  political  disabilities  did  not 
prevent  them?  No,  sir,  if  political  disabilities  have 
any  practical  effect  it  is,  while  not  in  any  degree  di- 
minishing the  power  of  the  evil-disposed  for  mischief, 

*  The  Ku  Klux  Klan  was  a  secret  organization  in  the  Southern 
States,  formed  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  negroes,  by  intimidation, 
from  voting  or  holding  office.  It  arose  probably  in  1867.  Many 
murders  and  other  crimes  were  committed  by  its  members,  and  it  was 
suppressed  at  last  only  by  Federal  enactment. 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  to; 

to  incite  and  sharpen  their  mischievous  inclination  by 
increasing  their  discontent  with  the  condition  they 
live  in. 

It  must  be  clear  to  every  impartial  observer  that 
were  ever  so  many  of  those  who  are  now  disqualified  5 
put  in  office,  they  never  could  do  with  their  official 
power  as  much  mischief  as  the  mere  fact  of  the  ex- 
istence  of  the   system   of  political   disabilities,   with 
its   inevitable   consequences,   is   doing  to-day.      The 
scandals    of    misgovernment    in    the    South    which  10 
we    complain    of    I    admit    were    not    the    first    and 
original    cause    of    the    Ku     Klux    outrages.     But 
every    candid    observer    will    also    have    to    admit 
that   they    did    serve   to    keep   the    Ku    Klux    spirit 
alive.     Without  such  incitement  it  might  gradually  by  15 
this  time,  to  a  great  extent  at  least,  have  spent  itself. 
And   now   if  the   scandals   of   misgovernment   were, 
partly  at  least,  owing  to  the  exclusion  of  so  large  a 
portion  of  the  intelligence  and  experience  of  the  South 
from  the  active  management  of  affairs,  must  it  not  be  20 
clear  that  a  measure  which  will  tend  to  remedy  this 
evil  may  also  tend  to  reduce  the  causes  which  still 
disturb  the  peace  and  harmony  of  society? 

We  accuse  the  Southern  whites  of  having  missed 
their  chance  of  gaining  the  confidence  of  the  emanci-  25 
pated  class  when,  by  a  fairly  demonstrated  purpose  of 
recognizing  and  protecting  them  in  their  rights,  they 
might  have  acquired  upon  them  a  salutary  influence. 
That  accusation  is  by  no  means  unjust;  but  must  we 
not  admit,  also,  that  by  excluding  them  from  their  po-  30 
litical  rights  and  privileges  we  put  the  damper  of  most 
serious    discouragement    upon    the    good    intentions 
which  might  have  grown  up  among  them?     Let  us 


io8  CARL  SCHURZ. 

place  ourselves  in  their  situation,  and  then  I  ask  you 
how  many  of  us  would,  under  the  same  circumstances, 
have  risen  above  the  ordinary  impulses  of  human  na- 
ture to  exert  a  salutary  influence  in  defiance  of  our 

5  own  prejudices,  being  so  pointedly  told  every  day  that 
it  was  not  the  business  of  those  laboring  under  po- 
litical disabilities  to  meddle  with  public  affairs  at  all? 
And  thus,  in  whatever  direction  you  may  turn  your 
eyes,  you  look  in  vain  for  any  practical  good  your 

10  political  disabilities  might  possibly  accomplish.  You 
find  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  in  their  practical 
effects  but  the  aggravation  of  evils  already  existing, 
and  the  prevention  of  a  salutary  development. 

Is  it  not  the  part  of  wise  men,  sir,  to  acknowledge 

15  the  failure  of  a  policy  like  this  in  order  to  remedy  it, 
especially  since  every  candid  mind  must  recognize 
that,  by  continuing  the  mistake,  absolutely  no  practi- 
cal good  can  be  subserved? 

But  I  am  told  that  the  system  of  disabilities  must 

20  be  maintained  for  certain  moral  effect.  The  senator 
from  Indiana  [Mr.  Morton]  took  great  pains  to  in- 
form us  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  exclude 
somebody  from  office  in  order  to  demonstrate  our  dis- 
approbation of  the  crime  of  rebellion.  Methinks  that 

25  the  American  people  have  signified  their  disapproba- 
tion of  the  crime  of  rebellion  in  a  far  more  pointed 
manner.  They  sent  against  the  rebellion  a  million 
armed  men.  We  fought  and  conquered  the  armies  of 
the  rebels;  we  carried  desolation  into  their  land;  we 

30  swept  out  of  existence  that  system  of  slavery  which 
was  the  soul  of  their  offense  and  was  to  be  the  corner 
stone  of  their  new  empire.  If  that  was  not  signify- 
ing our  disapprobation  of  the  crime  of  rebellion,  then 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  i°9 

I  humbly  submit  that  your  system  of  political  disa- 
bilities, only  excluding  some  persons  from  office,  will 
scarcely  do  it. 

I  remember,  also,  to  have  heard  the  argument  that 
under  all  circumstances  the  law  must  be  vindicated.  5 
What  law  in  this  case?     If  any  law  is  meant,  it  must 
be  the  law  imposing  the  penalty  of  death  upon  the 
crime  of  treason.    Well,  if  at  the  close  of  the  War  we 
had  assumed  the  stern  and  bloody  virtue  of  the  ancient 
Roman, and  had  proclaimed  that  he  who  raises  his  hand  10 
against  this  republic  must  surely  die,  then  we  might 
have  claimed  for  ourselves  at  least  the  merit  of  logical 
consistency.     We  might  have  thought  that  by  erect- 
ing a  row  of  gallows  stretching  from  the  Potomac  to 
the  Rio  Grande,  and  by  making  a  terrible  example  of  15 
all  those  who  had  proved  faithless  to  their  allegiance, 
we  would  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  this  and  com- 
ing generations,  to  make  them  tremble  at  the  mere 
thought  of  treasonable  undertakings.     That  we  might 
have  done.     Why  did  we  not?     Because  the  American  20 
people  instinctively  recoiled  from  the  idea;  because 
every  wise  man  remembered  that  where  insurrections 
are  punished  and  avenged  with  the  bloodiest  hands, 
there  insurrections  do  most  frequently  occur;  witness 
France  and  Spain  and  the  southern  part  of  this  hemi-  25 
sphere;  that  there  is  a  fascination  for  bloody  reckon- 
ings which  allures  instead  of  repelling — a  fascination 
like  that  of  the  serpent's  eye,  which  irresistibly  draws 
on  its  victim.     The  American  people  recoiled  from  it, 
because  they  felt  and  knew  that  the  civilization  of  the  30 
nineteenth  century  has  for  such  evils  a  better  medicine 
than  blood. 

Thus,  sir,  the  penalty  of  treason,  as  provided  for  by 


lit  CARL   SCHURZ. 

law,  remained  a  dead  letter  on  the  statute  book,  and 
we  instinctively  adopted  a  generous  policy,  and  we 
added  fresh  luster  to  the  glory  of  the  American  name 
by  doing  so.  And  now  you  would  speak  of  vindicat- 
5  ing  the  law  against  treason,  which  demands  death,  by 
merely  excluding  a  number  of  persons  from  eligibility 
to  office !  Do  you  not  see  that,  as  a  vindication  of  the 
law  against  treason,  as  an  act  of  punishment,  the  sys- 
tem of  disabilities  sinks  down  to  the  level  of  a  ridicu- 

10  lous  mockery?  If  you  want  your  system  of  disabili- 
ties to  appear  at  all  in  a  respectable  light,  then,  in  the 
name  of  common  sense,  do  not  call  it  a  punishment 
for  treason.  Standing  there,  as  it  does,  stripped  of 
all  the  justification  it  once  derived  from  political  neces- 

15  sity,  it  would  appear  only  as  the  evidence  of  an  im- 
potent desire  to  be  severe  without  the  courage  to  carry 
it  out.  But,  having  once  adopted  the  policy  of  gen- 
erosity, the  only  question  for  us  is  how  to  make  that 
policy  most  fruitful.  The  answer  is:  We  shall  make 

20  the  policy  of  generosity  most  fruitful  by  making  it 
most  complete. 

The  senator  from  Connecticut  [Mr.  Buckingham], 
whom  I  am  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  see  in  his  seat 
to-day,  when  he  opened  the  debate,  endeavored  to 

25  fortify  his  theory  by  an  illustration  borrowed  from  the 
Old  Testament,  and  I  am  willing  to  take  that  illustra- 
tion off  his  hands.  He  asked,  if  Absalom  had  lived 
after  his  treason,  and  had  been  excluded  from  his 
father's  table,  would  he  have  had  a  just  reason  to  com- 

3o  plain  of  an  unjust  deprivation  of  rights?  It  seems  to 
me  that  story  of  Absalom  contains  a  most  excellent 
lesson,  which  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  ought  to 
read  correctly.  For  the  killing  of  his  brother,  Absa- 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  Hi 

lorn  had  lived  in  banishment,  from  which  the  king,  his 
father,  permitted  him  to  return;  but  the  wayward  son 
was  but  half  pardoned,  for  he  was  not  permitted  to 
see  his  father's  face.  And  it  was  for  that  reason,  and 
then,  that  he  went  among  the  people  to  seduce  them  5 
into  a  rebellion  against  his  royal  father's  authority. 
Had  he  survived  that  rebellion,  King  David,  as  a  pru- 
dent statesman,  would  either  have  killed  his  son  Ab- 
salom or  he  would  have  admitted  him  to  his  table,  in 
order  to  make  him  a  good  son  again  by  unstinted  10 
fatherly  love.  But  he  would  certainly  not  have  per- 
mitted his  son  Absalom  to  run  at  large,  capable  of 
doing  mischief,  and  at  the  same  time  by  small  meas- 
ures of  degradation  inciting  him  to  do  it.  And  that 
is  just  the  policy  we  have  followed.  We  have  per-  15 
mitted  the  late  rebels  to  run  at  large,  capable  of  doing 
mischief,  and  then  by  small  measures  of  degradation, 
utterly  useless  for  any  good  purpose,  we  incited  them 
to  do  it.  Looking  at  your  political  disabilities  with  an 
impartial  eye,  you  will  find  that,  as  a  measure  of  pun-  20 
ishment,  they  did  not  go  far  enough ;  as  a  measure  of 
policy  they  went  much  too  far.  We  were  far  too  gen- 
erous to  subjugate  the  hearts  of  our  late  enemies  by 
terror;  and  we  mixed  our  generosity  with  just  enough 
of  bitterness  to  prevent  it  from  bearing  its  full  fruit.  25 
I  repeat,  we  can  make  the  policy  of  generosity  most 
fruitful  only  by  making  it  most  complete.  What  ob- 
jection, then,  can  stand  against  this  consideration  of 
public  good? 

You  tell  me  that  many  of  the  late  rebels  do  not  de-  30 
serve  a  full  restoration  of  their  rights.     That  may  be 
so;  I  do  not  deny  it;  but  yet,  sir,  if  many  of  them  do 
not  deserve  it,  is  it  not  a  far  more  important  considera- 


112  CARL  SCHVRZ. 

tion  how  much  the  welfare  of  the  country  will  be 
promoted  by  it? 

I  am  told  that  many  of  the  late  rebels,  if  we  volun- 
teer a  pardon  to  them,  would  not  appreciate  it.     I  do 

5  not  deny  this ;  it  may  be  so,  for  the  race  of  fools,  un- 
fortunately, is  not  all  dead  yet;  but  if  they  do  not 
appreciate  it,  shall  we  have  no  reason  to  appreciate 
the  great  good  which  by  this  measure  of  generosity 
will  be  conferred  upon  the  whole  land? 

10  Some  senator,  referring  to  a  defaulting  paymaster 
who  experienced  the  whole  rigor  of  the  law,  asked  us, 
"  When  a  poor  defaulter  is  punished,  shall  a  rebel  go 
free?  Is  embezzlement  a  greater  crime  than  trea- 
son?" No,  sir,  it  is  not;  but  again  I  repeat  that  is  not 

15  the  question.  The  question  is  whether  a  general 
amnesty  to  rebels  is  not  far  more  urgently  demanded 
by  the  public  interest  than  a  general  pardon  for 
thieves.  Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  greatness  and 
the  heinous  character  of  the  crime  of  rebellion,  a  single 

20  glance  at  the  history  of  the  world  and  at  the  practice 
of  other  nations  will  convince  you  that  in  all  civilized 
countries  the  measure  of  punishment  to  be  visited  on 
those  guilty  of  that  crime  is  almost  uniformly  treated 
as  a  question  of  great  policy  and  almost  never  as  a 

25  question  of  strict  justice.  And  why  is  this?  Why  is 
it  that  a  thief,  although  pardoned,  will  never  again  be 
regarded  as  an  untainted  member  of  society,  while  a 
pardoned  rebel  may  still  rise  to  the  highest  honors  of 
the  state,  and  sometimes  even  gain  the  sincere  and 

30  general  esteem  and  confidence  of  his  countrymen? 
Because  a  broad  line  of  distinction  is  drawn  between 
a  violation  of  law  in  which  political  opinion  is  the 
controlling  element  (however  erroneous,  nay,  however 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  nj 

revolting  that  opinion  may  be,  and  however  disastrous 
the  consequences  of  the  act)  and  those  infamous 
crimes  of  which  moral  depravity  is  the  principal  in- 
gredient ;  and  because  even  the  most  disastrous  politi- 
cal conflicts  may  be  composed  for  the  common  good  5 
by  a  conciliatory  process,  while  the  infamous  crime 
always  calls  for  a  strictly  penal  correction.  You  may 
call  this  just  or  not,  but  such  is  the  public  opinion  of 
the  civilized  world,  and  you  find  it  in  every  civilized 
country.  10 

Look  at  the  nations  around  us.  In  the  Parliament 
of  Germany  how  many  men  are  there  sitting  who  were 
once  what  you  would  call  fugitives  from  justice,  exiles 
on  account  of  their  revolutionary  acts,  now  admitted 
to  the  great  council  of  the  nation  in  the  fullness  of  15 
their  rights  and  privileges — and  mark  you,  without 
having  been  asked  to  abjure  the  opinions  they  for- 
merly held,  for  at  the  present  moment  most  of  them 
still  belong  to  the  Liberal  opposition.  Look  at  Austria, 
where  Count  Andrassy,  a  man  who,  in  1849,  was  con~  20 
demned  to  the  gallows  as  a  rebel,  at  this  moment 
stands  at  the  head  of  the  imperial  ministry;  and  those 
who  know  the  history  of  that  country  are  fully  aware 
that  the  policy  of  which  that  amnesty  was  a  part, 
which  opened  to  Count  Andrassy  the  road  to  power.  25 
has  attached  Hungary  more  closely  than  ever  to  the 
Austrian  Crown,  from  which  a  narrow-minded  policy 
of  severity  would  have  driven  her. 

Now,  sir,  ough*  not  we  to  profit  by  the  wisdom  of 
such  examples?     It  may  be  said  that  other  Govern-  3° 
ments  were  far  more  rigorous  in  their  first  repressive 
measures,  and  that  they  put  off  the  grant  of  a  general 
amnesty  much  longer  after  suppressing  an  insurrec- 


H4  CARL  SCHURZ. 

tion  than  we  are  required  to  do.  So  they  did;  but  is 
not  this  the  great  republic  of  the  New  World  which 
marches  in  the  very  vanguard  of  modern  civilization, 
and  which,  when  an  example  of  wisdom  is  set  by  other 
5  nations,  should  not  only  rise  to  its  level,  but  far 
above  it? 

It  seems  now  to  be  generally  admitted  that  the  time 
has  come  for  a  more  comprehensive  removal  of  politi- 
cal disabilities  than  has  so  far  been  granted.  If  that 

10  sentiment  be  sincere,  if  you  really  do  desire  to  accom- 
plish the  greatest  possible  good  by  this  measure  that 
can  be  done,  I  would  ask  you  what  practical  advan- 
tage do  you  expect  to  derive  from  the  exclusions  for 
which  this  bill  provides?  Look  at  them,  one  after  an- 

15  other. 

First,  all  those  are  excluded  who,  when  the  Rebel- 
lion broke  out,  were  members  of  Congress,  and  left 
their  seats  in  these  halls  to  join  it.  Why  are  these 
men  to  be  excluded  as  a  class?  Because  this  class 

20  contains  a  number  of  prominent  individuals,  who,  in 
the  Rebellion,  became  particularly  conspicuous  and 
obnoxious,  and  among  them  we  find  those  whom  we 
might  designate  as  the  original  conspirators.  But 
these  are  few,  and  they  might  have  been  mentioned 

25  by  name.  Most  of  those,  however,  who  left  their  seats 
in  Congress  to  make  common  cause  with  the  rebels 
were  in  no  way  more  responsible  for  the  Rebellion  than 
other  prominent  men  in  the  South  who  do  not  fall 
under  this  exception.  If  we  accept  at  all  the  argu- 

30  ment  that  it  will  be  well  for  the  cause  of  good  govern- 
ment and  the  material  welfare  of  the  South  to  re-admit 
to  the  management  of  public  affairs  all  the  intelligence 
and  political  experience  in  those  States,  why,  then, 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  "5 

exclude  as  a  class  men  who,  having  been  members 
of  Congress,  may  be  presumed  to  possess  a  higher  de- 
gree of  that  intelligence  and  experience  than  the  rest? 
If  you  want  that  article  at  all  for  good  purposes,  I  ask 
you,  do  you  not  want  as  large  a  supply  of  that  article  5 
as  you  can  obtain? 

Leaving  aside  the  original  conspirators,  is  there  any 
reason  in  the  world  why  those  members  of  Congress 
should  be  singled  out  from  the  numerous  class  of  in- 
telligent and  prominent  men  who  were  or  had  been  10 
in  office  and  had  taken  the  same  oath  which  is  ad- 
ministered in  these  halls?  Look  at  it.  You  do  not 
propose  to  continue  the  disqualification  of  men  who 
served  this  country  as  foreign  ministers,  who  left  their 
important  posts,  betrayed  the  interests  of  this  country  i* 
in  foreign  lands  to  come  back  and  join  the  Rebellion; 
you  do  not  propose  to  exclude  from  the  benefit  of 
this  act  those  who  sat  upon  the  bench  and  doffed  the 
judicial  ermine  to  take  part  in  the  Rebellion;  and  if 
such  men  are  not  to  be  disfranchised,  why  disfranchise  20 
the  common  run  of  the  congressmen,  whose  guilt  is  cer- 
tainly not  greater,  if  it  be  as  great?  Can  you  tell  me? 
Is  it  wise  even  to  incur  the  suspicion  of  making  an  ex- 
ception merely  for  the  sake  of  excluding  somebody, 
when  no  possible  good  can  be  accomplished  by  it,  and  25 
when  you  can  thus  only  increase  the  number  of  men 
incited  to  discontent  and  mischief  by  small  and  un- 
necessary degradations? 

And  now  as  to  the  original  conspirators,  what  has 
become  of  them?    Some  of  them  are  dead;  and  as  to 30 
those  who  are  still  living,  I  ask  you,  sir,  are  they  not 
dead  also?     Look  at  Jefferson  Davis  himself.     What 
if  you  exclude  even  him — and  certainly  our  feelings 


"6  CARL   SCHURZ. 

would  naturally  impel  us  to  do  so;  but  let  our  reason 
speak — what  if  you  exclude  even  him?  Would  you 
not  give  him  an  importance  which  otherwise  he  never 
would  possess,  by  making  people  believe  that  you  are 

5  even  occupying  your  minds  enough  with  him  to  make 
him  an  exception  to  an  act  of  generous  wisdom? 
Truly  to  refrain  from  making  an  act  of  amnesty  gen- 
eral on  account  of  the  original  conspirators,  candidly 
speaking,  I  would  not  consider  worth  while.  I  would 

10  not  leave  them  the  pitiable  distinction  of  not  being 
pardoned.  Your  very  generosity  will  be  to  them  the 
source  of  the  bitterest  disappointment.  As  long  as 
they  are  excluded,  they  may  still  find  some  satisfac- 
tion in  the  delusion  of  being  considered  men  of  dan- 

15  gerous  importance.  Their  very  disabilities  they  look 
upon  to-day  as  a  recognition  of  their  power.  They 
may  still  make  themselves  and  others  believe  that, 
were  the  Southern  people  only  left  free  in  their  choice, 
they  would  eagerly  raise  them  again  to  the  highest 

20  honors. 

But  you  relieve  them  of  their  exclusion,  and  they 
will  at  once  become  conscious  of  their  nothingness,  a 
nothingness  most  glaringly  conspicuous  then,  for  you 
will  have  drawn  away  the  veil  that  has  concealed  it.  I 

25  suspect  that  gentlemen  on  the  Democratic  side  of  the 
House,  whom  they  would  consider  their  political 
friends,  would  be  filled  with  dismay  at  the  mere 
thought  of  their  reappearance  among  them.  If 
there  is  anything  that  could  prevent  them  from  vot- 

30  ing  for  universal  amnesty,  it  might  be  the  fear,  if  they 
entertained  it  at  all,  of  seeing  Jefferson  Davis  once 
more  a  senator  of  the  United  States. 

But  more  than  that:  you  relieve  that  class  of  per- 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  117 

sons,  those  old  misleaders,  of  their  exclusion,  and  they 
will  soon  discover  that  the  people  whom  they  once 
plunged  into  disaster  and  ruin  have  in  the  meantime 
grown,  if  not  as  wise  as  they  ought  to  be,  certainly 
too  wise  to  put  their  destinies  in  the  hands  of  the  5 
same  men  again.  I  hope,  therefore,  you  will  not  strip 
this  measure  of  the  merit  of  being  a  general  amnesty 
to  spare  the  original  plotters  this  most  salutary  ex- 
perience. 

So  much  for  the  first  exception.     Now  to  the  sec-  10 
ond.     It  excludes  from  the  benefit  of  this  act  all  those 
who  were  officers  of  the  Army  or  of  the  Navy  and  then 
joined  the  Rebellion.     Why  exclude  that  class  of  per- 
sons?    I  have  heard  the  reason  very  frequently  stated 
upon  the  floor  of  the  Senate;  it  is  because  those  men  15 
had  been  educated  at  the  public  expense,  and  their 
turning  against  the  Government  was  therefore  an  act 
of  peculiar  faithlessness  and  black  ingratitude.     That 
might  appear  a  very  strong  argument  at  first  sight. 
But  I  ask  you  was  it  not  one  of  the  very  first  acts  of  20 
this  administration  to  appoint  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent and  conspicuous  of  that  class  to  a  very  lucrative 
and  respectable  public  office?     I  mean  General  Long- 
street.     He  had  obtained  his  military  education  at  the 
expense  of  the  Am  .rican  people.     He  was  one  of  the  25 
wards,  one  of  the  pets  of  the  American  Republic,  and 
then  he  turned  against  it  as  a  rebel.     Whatever  of 
faithlessness,  whatever  of  black  ingratitude  there  is  in 
such  conduct,  it  was  in  his;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  all  this, 
the  President  nominated  him  for  an  office,  and  your  30 
consent,  senators,  made  him  a  public  dignitary.     Why 
did  you  break  the  rule  in  his  case?     I  will  not  say  that 
you  did  it  because  he  had  become  a  Republican,  for  I 


Ii8  CARL   SCHURZ. 

am  far  from  attributing  any  mere  partisan  motive  to 
your  action.  No;  you  did  it  because  his  conduct  after 
the  close  of  hostilities  had  been  that  of  a  well-dis- 
posed and  law-abiding  citizen.  Thus,  then,  the  rule 

5  which  you,  senators,  have  established  for  your  own 
conduct  is  simply  this:  you  will,  in  the  case  of  officers 
of  the  Army  or  the  Navy,  waive  the  charge  of  peculiar 
faithlessness  and  ingratitude  if  the  persons  in  question 
after  the  War  had  become  law-abiding  and  well-dis- 

10  posed  citizens.  Well,  is  it  not  a  fact  universally 
recognized,  and  I  believe  entirely  uncontradicted,  that 
of  all  classes  of  men  connected  with  the  Rebellion 
there  is  not  one  whose  conduct  since  the  close  of  the 
War  has  been  so  unexceptionable,  and  in  a  great  many 

15  instances  so  beneficial  in  its  influence  upon  Southern 
society,  as  the  officers  of  the  Army  and  the  Navy,  espe- 
cially those  who  before  the  War  had  been  members 
of  our  regular  establishments?  Why,  then,  except 
them  from  this  act  of  amnesty?  If  you  take  subse- 

20  quent  good  conduct  into  account  at  all,  these  men  are 
the  very  last  who  as  a  class  ought  to  be  excluded. 
And  would  it  not  be  well  to  encourage  them  in  well- 
doing by  a  sign  on  your  part  that  they  are  not  to  be 
looked  upon  as  outcasts  whose  influence  is  not  de- 

25  sired,  even  when  they  are  inclined  to  use  it  for  the  pro- 
motion of  the  common  welfare? 

The  third  class  excluded  consists  of  those  who  were 
members  of  State  conventions,  and  in  those  State  con- 
ventions voted  for  ordinances  of  secession.  If  we 

30  may  judge  from  the  words  which  fell  from  the  lips  of 
the  senator  from  Indiana,  they  were  the  objects  of  his 
particular  displeasure.  Why  this?  Here  we  have  a 
large  number  of  men  of  local  standing  who  in  some 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  "9 

cases  may  have  been  leaders  on  a  small  scale,  but 
most  of  whom  were  drawn  into  the  whirl  of  the  revo- 
lutionary movement  just  like  the  rest  of  the  Southern 
population.  If  you  accept  the  proposition  that  it  will 
be  well  and  wise  to  permit  the  intelligence  of  the  coun-  5 
try  to  participate  in  the  management  of  the  public 
business,  the  exclusion  of  just  these  people  will  appear 
especially  inappropriate,  because  their  local  influence 
might  be  made  peculiarly  beneficial;  and  if  you  ex- 
clude these  persons,  whose  number  is  considerable,  10 
you  tell  just  that  class  of  people  whose  co-operation 
might  be  made  most  valuable  that  their  co-operation 
is  not  wanted,  for  the  reason  that,  according  to  the 
meaning  and  intent  of  your  system  of  disabilities,  pub- 
lic affairs  are  no  business  of  theirs.  You  object  that  15 
they  are  more  guilty  than  the  rest.  Suppose  they  are 
— and  in  many  cases  I  am  sure  they  are  only  appar- 
ently so — but  if  they  were  not  guilty  of  any  wrong, 
they  would  need  no  amnesty.  Amnesty  is  made  for 
those  who  bear  a  certain  degree  of  guilt.  Or  would  20 
you  indulge  here  in  the  solemn  farce  of  giving  pardon 
only  to  those  who  are  presumably  innocent?  You 
grant  your  amnesty  that  it  may  bear  good  fruit;  and 
if  you  do  it  for  that  purpose,  then  do  not  diminish  the 
good  fruit  it  may  bear  by  leaving  unplanted  the  most  25 
promising  soil  upon  which  it  may  grow. 

A  few  words  now  about  the  second  section  of  the 
bill  before  you,  which  imposes  upon  those  who  desire 
to  have  the  benefit  of  amnesty  the  duty  of  taking  an 
oath  to  support  the  Constitution  before  some  public  30 
officer,  that  oath  to  be  registered,  the  list  to  be  laid  be- 
fore Congress  and  to  be  preserved  in  the  office  of  the 
Secretary  of  State.  Sir,  I  ask  you,  can  you  or  any- 


120  CARL   SCHURZ. 

one  tell  me  what  practical  good  is  to  be  accomplished 
by  a  provision  like  this?  You  may  say  that  the  tak- 
ing of  another  oath  will  do  nobody  any  harm.  Proba- 
bly not;  but  can  you  tell  me,  in  the  name  of  common 
5  sense,  what  harm  in  this  case  the  taking  of  that  oath 
will  prevent?  Or  have  we  read  the  history  of  the 
world  in  vain,  that  we  should  not  know  yet  how  little 
political  oaths  are  worth  to  improve  the  mortality  of  a 
people  or  to  secure  the  stability  of  a  government? 

10  And  what  do  you  mean  to  accomplish  by  making  up 
and  preserving  your  lists  of  pardoned  persons?  Can 
they  be  of  any  possible  advantage  to  the  country  in 
any  way?  Why,  then,  load  down  an  act  like  this  with 
such  useless  circumstance,  while,  as  an  act  of  grace 

15  and  wisdom,  it  certainly  ought  to  be  as  straightfor- 
ward and  simple  as  possible? 

Let  me  now  in  a  few  words  once  more  sum  up  the 
whole  meaning  of  the  question  which  we  are  now  en- 
gaged in  discussing.  No  candid  man  can  deny  that 

20  our  system  of  political  disabilities  is  in  no  way  calcu- 
lated to  protect  the  rights  or  the  property  or  the  life 
or  the  liberty  of  any  living  man,  or  in  any  way  practi- 
cally to  prevent  the  evil-disposed  from  doing  mischief. 
Why  do  you  think  of  granting  any  amnesty  at  all?  Is 

25  it  not  to  produce  on  the  popular  mind  in  the  South  a 
conciliatory  effect,  to  quicken  the  germs  of  good  in- 
tentions, to  encourage  those  who  can  exert  a  bene- 
ficial influence,  to  remove  the  pretexts  of  ill-feeling 
and  animosity,  and  to  aid  in  securing  to  the  Southern 

30  States  the  blessings  of  good  and  honest  government? 
If  that  is  not  your  design,  what  can  it  be? 

But  if  it  be  this,  if  you  really  do  desire  to  produce 
such  moral  effects,  then  I  entreat  you  also  to  consider 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  "I 

what  moral  means  you  have  to  employ  in  order  to 
bring  forth  those  moral  effects  you  contemplate.  If  an 
act  of  generous  statesmanship,  or  of  statesman-like 
generosity,  is  to  bear  full  fruit,  it  should  give  not  as 
little  as  possible,  but  it  should  give  as  much  as  possi-  5 
ble.  You  must  not  do  things  by  halves  if  you  want 
to  produce  whole  results.  You  must  not  expose  your- 
self to  the  suspicion  of  a  narrow-minded  desire  to 
pinch  off  the  size  of  your  gift  wherever  there  is  a 
chance  for  it,  as  if  you  were  afraid  you  could  by  any  10 
possibility  give  too  much,  when  giving  more  would 
benefit  the  country  more,  and  when  giving  less  would 
detract  from  the  beneficent  effect  of  that  which  you 
do  give. 

Let  me  tell  you  it  is  the  experience  of  all  civilized  15 
nations  the  world  over,  when  an  amnesty  is  to  be 
granted  at  all,  the  completest  amnesty  is  always  the 
best.    Any  limitation  you  may  impose,  however  plausi- 
ble it  may  seem  at  first  sight,  will  be  calculated  to  take 
away  much  of  the  virtue  of  that  which  is  granted.     I  20 
entreat  you,  then,  in  the  name  of  the  accumulated 
experience  of  history,  let  there  be  an  end  of  these 
bitter  and  useless  and  disturbing  questions;  let  the 
books  be  finally  closed,  and  when  the  subject  is  for- 
ever dismissed  from  our  discussions  and  our  minds,  we  25 
shall  feel  as  much  relieved  as  those  who  are  relieved 
of  their  political  disabilities. 

Sir,  I  have  to  say  a  few  words  about  an  accusation 
which  has  been  brought  against  those  who  speak  in 
favor  of  universal  amnesty.  It  is  the  accusation  re-  30 
sorted  to,  in  default  of  more  solid  argument,  that  those 
who  advise  amnesty,  especially  universal  amnesty,  do 
so  because  they  have  fallen  in  love  with  the  rebels. 


122  CARL  SCHURZ. 

No,  sir,  it  is  not  merely  for  the  rebels  I  plead.  We  are 
asked,  Shall  the  Rebellion  go  entirely  unpunished? 
No,  sir,  it  shall  not.  Neither  do  I  think  that  the  Re- 
bellion has  gone  entirely  unpunished.  I  ask  you,  had 
5  the  rebels  nothing  to  lose  but  their  lives  and  their 
offices?  Look  at  it.  There  was  a  proud  and  arro- 
gant aristocracy,  planting  their  feet  on  the  necks  of  the 
laboring  people,  and  pretending  to  be  the  born  rulers 
of  this  great  republic.  They  looked  down,  not  only 

10  upon  their  slaves,  but  also  upon  the  people  of  the 
North,  with  the  haughty  contempt  of  self-asserting 
superiority.  When  their  pretensions  to  rule  us  all 
were  first  successfully  disputed,  they  resolved  to  de- 
stroy this  republic,  and  to  build  up  on  the  corner 

15  stone  of  slavery  an  empire  of  their  own  in  which  they 
could  hold  absolute  sway.  They  made  the  attempt 
with  the  most  overweeningly  confident  expectation  of 
certain  victory.  Then  came  the  Civil  War,  and  after 
four  years  of  struggle  their  whole  power  and  pride 

20  lay  shivered  to  atoms  at  our  feet,  their  sons  dead  by 
tens  of  thousands  on  the  battle-fields  of  this  country, 
their  fields  and  their  homes  devastated,  their  fortunes 
destroyed ;  and  more  than  that,  the  whole  social  system 
in  which  they  had  their  being,  with  all  their  hopes 

25  and  pride,  utterly  wiped  out;  slavery  forever  abolished, 
and  the  slaves  themselves  created  a  political  power 
before  which  they  had  to  bow  their  heads,  and  they, 
broken,  ruined,  helpless,  and  hopeless  in  the  dust  be- 
fore those  upon  whom  they  had  so  haughtily  looked 

30  clown  as  their  vassals  and  inferiors.     Sir,  can  it  be 

said  that  the  Rebellion  has  gone  entirely  unpunished? 

You  may  object  that  the  loyal  people,  too,  were 

subjected  to  terrible  sufferings;  that  their  sons,  too, 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  123 

were  slaughtered  by  tens  of  thousands;  that  the 
mourning  of  countless  widows  and  orphans  is  still 
darkening  our  land;  that  we  are  groaning  under  ter- 
rible burdens  which  the  Rebellion  has  loaded  upon  us, 
and  that  therefore  part  of  the  punishment  has  fallen  5 
upon  the  innocent.  And  it  is  certainly  true. 

But  look  at  the  difference.  We  issued  from  this 
great  conflict  as  conquerors;  upon  the  graves  of  our 
slain  we  could  lay  the  wreath  of  victory;  our  widows 
and  orphans,  while  mourning  the  loss  of  their  dearest,  10 
still  remember  with  proud  exultation  that  the  blood  of 
their  husbands  and  fathers  was  not  spilled  in  vain ;  that 
it  flowed  for  the  greatest  and  holiest  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  victorious  of  causes ;  and  when  our  peo- 
ple labor  in  the  sweat  of  their  brow  to  pay  the  debt  15 
which  the  Rebellion  has  loaded  upon  us,  they  do  it 
with  the  proud  consciousness  that  the  heavy  price  they 
have  paid  is  infinitely  overbalanced  by  the  value  of  the 
results  they  have  gained:  slavery  abolished;  the  great 
American  Republic  purified  of  her  foulest  stain ;  the  20 
American  people  no  longer  a  people  of  masters  and 
slaves,  but  a  people  of  equal  citizens;  the  most  dan- 
gerous element  of  disturbance  and  disintegration 
wiped  out  from  among  us;  this  country  put  upon  the 
course  of  harmonious  development,  greater,  more  25 
beautiful,  mightier  than  ever  in  its  self-conscious 
power.  And  thus,  whatever  losses,  whatever  sacri- 
fices, whatever  sufferings  we  may  have  endured,  they 
appear  before  us  in  a  blaze  of  glory. 

But  how  do  the  Southern  people  stand  there?    All  30 
they  have  sacrificed,  all  they  have  lost,  all  the  blood 
they  have  spilled,  all  the  desolation  of  their  homes,  all 
the  distress  that  stares  them  in  the  face,  all  the  wreck 


124  CARL  SCHURZ. 

and  ruin  they  see  around  them — all  for  nothing, 
all  for  a  wicked  folly,  all  for  a  disastrous  infatua- 
tion; the  very  graves  of  their  slain  nothing  but 
monuments  of  a  shadowy  delusion;  all  their  former 

5  hopes  vanished  forever;  and  the  very  magniloquence 
which  some  of  their  leaders  are  still  indulging  in, 
nothing  but  a  mocking  illustration  of  their  utter  dis- 
comfiture! Ah,  sir,  if  ever  human  efforts  broke  down 
in  irretrievable  disaster,  if  ever  human  pride  was  hu- 

10  miliated  to  the  dust,  if  ever  human  hopes  were  turned 
into  despair,  there  you  behold  them. 

You  may  say  that  they  deserved  it  all.  Yes,  but 
surely,  sir,  you  cannot  say  that  the  Rebellion  has  gone 
entirely  unpunished.  Nor  will  the  senator  from  Indi- 

15  ana,  with  all  his  declamation  (and  I  am  sorry  not  now 
to  see  him  before  me),  make  any  sane  man  believe  that 
had  no  political  disabilities  ever  been  imposed,  the 
history  of  the  Rebellion,  as  long  as  the  memory  of 
men  retains  the  recollection  of  the  great  story,  will 

20  ever  encourage  a  future  generation  to  rebel  again,  or 
that  if  even  this  great  example  of  disaster  should  fail 
to  extinguish  the  spirit  of  rebellion,  his  little  scare- 
crow of  exclusion  from  office  will  be  more  than  a  thing 
to  be  laughed  at  by  little  boys. 

25  And  yet,  sir,  it  is  certainly  true  that  after  the  close 
of  the  War  we  treated  the  rebels  with  a  generosity 
never  excelled  in  the  history  of  the  world.  And  thus, 
in  advising  a  general  amnesty  it  is  not  merely  for  the 
rebels  I  plead.  But  I  plead  for  the  good  of  the  coun- 

30  try,  which  in  its  best  interests  will  be  benefited  by 
amnesty  just  as  much  as  the  rebels  are  benefited  them- 
selves, if  not  more. 

Nay,  sir,  I  plead  also  for  the  colored  people  of  the 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  125 

South,  whose  path  will  be  smoothed  by  a  measure 
calculated  to  assuage  some  of  the  prejudices  and  to 
disarm  some  of  the  bitternesses  which  still  confront 
them;  and  I  am  sure  that  nothing  better  could  happen 
to  them,  nothing  could  be  more  apt  to  make  the  5 
growth  of  good  feeling  between  them  and  the  former 
master-class  easier,  than  the  destruction  of  a  system 
which,  by  giving  them  a  political  superiority,  endan- 
gers their  peaceable  enjoyment  of  equal  rights. 

And  I  may  say  to  my  honorable  friend  from  Massa-  10 
chusetts  [Mr.  Sumner],  who  knowrs  well  how  highly 
I  esteem  him,  and  whom  I  sincerely  honor  for  his 
solicitude  concerning  the  welfare  of  the  lowly,  that  my 
desire  to  see  their  wrongs  righted  is  no  less  sincere  and 
no  less  unhampered  by  any  traditional  prejudice  than  15 
his;  although  I  will  confess  that  as  to  the  constitu- 
tional means  to  that  end  we  may  sometimes  seriously 
differ;  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  my  regret 
that  this  measure  should  be  loaded  with  anything  that 
is  not  strictly  germane  to  it,  knowing  as  we  both  do  20 
that  the  amendment  *  he  has  proposed  cannot  secure 
the  necessary  two-thirds  vote  in  at  least  one  of  the 
Houses  of  Congress,  and  that  therefore  it  will  be  cal- 
culated to  involve  this  measure  also  in  the  danger  of 
common  failure.  I  repeat,  it  is  not  merely  for  the  25 
rebels  I  plead;  it  is  for  the  whole  American  people, 
for  there  is  not  a  citizen  in  the  land  whose  true  inter- 
ests, rightly  understood,  are  not  largely  concerned  in 
every  measure  affecting  the  peace  and  welfare  of  any 
State  of  this  Union.  30 

*  Mr.  Sumner  had  offered  to  the  bill  an  amendment  of  several  sec- 
tions, the  purpose  of  which  was  to  secure  equal  civil  rights  for  the 
colored  race. 


126  CARL   SCHURZ. 

Believe  me,  senators,  the  statesmanship  which  this 
period  of  our  history  demands  is  not  exhausted  by 
high-sounding  declamation  about  the  greatness  of  the 
crime  of  rebellion,  and  fearful  predictions  as  to  what 
5  is  going  to  happen  unless  the  rebels  are  punished  with 
sufficient  severity.  We  have  heard  so  much  of  this 
from  some  gentlemen,  and  so  little  else,  that  the  in- 
quiry naturally  suggests  itself  whether  this  is  the 
whole  compass,  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  of  their 

10 political  wisdom  and  their  political  virtue;  whether 
it  is  really  their  opinion  that  the  people  of 
the  South  may  be  plundered  with  impunity  by 
rascals  in  power,  that  the  substance  of  those 
States  may  be  wasted,  that  their  credit  may  be 

15  ruined,  that  their  prosperity  may  be  blighted,  that 
their  future  may  be  blasted,  that  the  poison  of  bad 
feeling  may  still  be  kept  working  where  we  might  do 
something  to  assuage  its  effects;  that  the  people  may 
lose  more  and  more  their  faith  in  the  efficiency  of  self- 

20  government  and  of  republican  institutions ;  that  all  this 
may  happen,  and  we  look  on  complacently,  if  we  can 
only  continue  to  keep  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  our  late 
enemies,  and  to  demonstrate  again  and  again,  as  the 
senator  from  Indiana  has  it,  our  disapprobation  of  the 

25  crime  of  rebellion? 

Sir,  such  appeals  as  these,  which  we  have  heard  so 
frequently,  may  be  well  apt  to  tickle  the  ear  of  an 
unthinking  multitude.  But  unless  I  am  grievously  in 
error,  the  people  of  the  United  States  are  a  multitude 

30  not  unthinking.  The  American  people  are  fast  be- 
coming aware  that,  great  as  the  crime  of  rebellion  is, 
there  are  other  villainies  beside  it;  that  much  as  it 
may  deserve  punishment  there  are  other  evils  flagrant 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  12? 

enough  to  demand  energetic  correction;  that  the  rem- 
edy for  such  evils  does,  after  all,  not  consist  in  the 
maintenance  of  political  disabilities,  and  that  it  would 
be  well  to  look  behind  those  vociferous  demonstrations 
of  exclusive  and  austere  patriotism  to  see  what  abuses   5 
and  faults  of  policy  they  are  to  cover,  and  what  rotten 
sores  they  are  to  disguise.     The  American  people  are 
fast  beginning  to  perceive  that  good  and  honest  gov- 
ernment in  the  South,  as  well  as  throughout  the  whole 
country,  restoring  a  measurable  degree  of  confidence  10 
and  contentment,  will  do  infinitely  more  to  revive  true 
loyalty  and  a  healthy  national  spirit,  than  keeping 
alive  the  resentments  of  the  past  by  a  useless  degrada- 
tion of  certain  classes  of  persons;  and  that  we  shall 
fail  to  do  our  duty  unless  we  use  every  means  to  con-  15 
tribute  our  share  to  that  end.     And  those,  I  appre- 
hend, expose  themselves  to  grievous  disappointment     . 
who  still  think  that,  by  dinning  again  and  again  in  the 
ears  of  the  people  the  old  battle-cries  of  the  Civil  War, 
they  can  befog  the  popular  mind  as  to  the  true  re-  20 
quirements  of  the  times,  and  overawe  and  terrorize 
the  public  sentiment  of  the  country. 

Sir,  I  am  coming  to  a  close.  One  word  more.  We 
have  heard  protests  here  against  amnesty  as  a  measure 
intended  to  make  us  forget  the  past  and  to  obscure  and  25 
confuse  our  moral  appreciation  of  the  great  events  of 
our  history.  No,  sir;  neither  would  I  have  the  past 
forgotten,  with  its  great  experiences  and  teachings. 
Let  the  memory  of  the  grand  uprising  for  the  integrity 
of  the  republic;  let  those  heroic  deeds  and  sacrifices  30 
before  which  the  power  of  slavery  crumbled  into  dust, 
be  forever  held  in  proud  and  sacred  remembrance  by 
the  American  people.  Let  it  never  be  forgotten,  as 


"8  CARL  SCHURZ. 

I  am  sure  it  never  can  be  forgotten,  that  the  American 
Union,  supported  by  her  faithful  children,  can  never 
be  undermined  by  any  conspiracy  ever  so  daring,  nor 
overthrown  by  any  array  of  enemies  ever  so  formida- 
5  ble.  Let  the  great  achievements  of  our  struggle  for 
national  existence  be  forever  a  source  of  lofty  inspira- 
tion to  our  children  and  children's  children. 

But  surely,  sir,  I  think  no  generous  resolution  on 
our  part  will  mar  the  luster  of  those  memories,  nor  will 

10  it  obliterate  from  the  Southern  mind  the  overwhelm- 
ing experience  that  he  who  raises  his  hand  against  the 
majesty  of  this  republic  is  doomed  to  disastrous 
humiliation  and  ruin.  I  would  not  have  it  forgotten; 
and,  indeed,  that  experience  is  so  indelibly  written 

15  upon  the  Southern  country  that  nothing  can  wipe  it 
out. 

But,  sir,  as  the  people  of  the  North  and  of  the  South 
must  live  together  as  one  people,  and  as  they  must  be 
bound  together  by  the  bonds  of  a  common  national 

20  feeling,  I  ask  you,  will  it  not  be  well  for  us  so  to  act 
that  the  history  of  our  great  civil  conflict,  which  cannot 
be  forgotten,  can  never  be  remembered  by  Southern 
men  without  finding  in  its  closing  chapter  this  irresist- 
ible assurance:  that  we,  their  conquerors,  meant  to 

25  be,  and  were  after  all,  not  their  enemies,  but  their 
friends?  When  the  Southern  people  con  over  the  dis- 
tressing catalogue  of  the  misfortunes  they  have 
brought  upon  themselves,  will  it  not  be  well,  will  it 
not  be  "  devoutly  to  be  wished  "  for  our  common  fu- 

30  ture,  if  at  the  end  of  that  catalogue  they  find  an  act 
which  will  force  every  fair-minded  man  in  the  South 
to  say  of  the  Northern  people,  "  When  we  were  at 
war  they  inflicted  upon  us  the  severities  of  war;  but 


GENERAL  AMNESTY.  129 

when  the  contest  had  closed  and  they  found  us  pros- 
trate before  them,  grievously  suffering,  surrounded  by 
the  most  perplexing  difficulties  and  on  the  brink  of 
new  disasters,  they  promptly  swept  all  the  resentments 
of  the  past  out  of  their  way  and  stretched  out  their  5 
hands  to  us  with  the  very  fullest  measure  of  gener- 
osity— anxious,  eager  to  lift  us  up  from  our  pros- 
tration? " 

Sir,  will  not  this  do  something  to  dispel  those  mists 
of  error  and  prejudice  which  are  still  clouding  the  10 
Southern  mind?  I  ask  again,  will  it  not  be  well  to 
add  to  the  sad  memories  of  the  past  which  forever  will 
live  in  their  minds,  this  cheering  experience,  so  apt 
to  prepare  them  for  the  harmony  of  a  better  and  com- 
mon future?  15 

No,  sir;  I  would  not  have  the  past  forgotten,  but  I 
would  have  its  history  completed  and  crowned  by  an 
act  most  worthy  of  a  great,  noble,  and  wise  people. 
By  all  the  means  which  we  have  in  our  hands,  I  would 
make  even  those  who  have  sinned  against  this  repub-  20 
lie  see  in  its  flag,  not  the  symbol  of  their  lasting  degra- 
dation, but  of  rights  equal  to  all ;  I  would  make  them 
feel  in  their  hearts  that  in  its  good  and  evil  fortunes 
their  rights  and  interests  are  bound  up  just  as  ours  are, 
and  that  therefore  its  peace,  its  welfare,  its  honor,  and  25 
its  greatness  may  and  ought  to  be  as  dear  to  them 
as  they  are  to  us. 

I  do  not,  indeed,  indulge  in  the  delusion  that  this 
act  alone  will  remedy  all  the  evils  which  we  now  de- 
plore. No,  it  will  not ;  but  it  will  be  a  powerful  appeal  30 
to  the  very  best  instincts  and  impulses  of  human  na- 
ture; it  will,  like  a  warm  ray  of  sunshine  in  spring- 
time, quicken  and  call  to  light  the  germs  of  good 


13°  CARL   SCHUKZ. 

intention  wherever  they  exist;  it  will  give  new  cour- 
age, confidence,  and  inspiration  to  the  well-disposed; 
it  will  weaken  the  power  of  the  mischievous,  by  strip- 
.  ping  off  their  pretexts  and  exposing  in  their  nakedness 
5  the  wicked  designs  they  still  may  cherish ;  it  will  light 
anew  the  beneficent  glow  of  fraternal  feeling  and  of 
national  spirit;  for,  sir,  your  good  sense  as  well  as 
your  heart  must  tell  you  that,  when  this  is  truly  a  peo- 
ple of  citizens  equal  in  their  political  rights,  it  will 
10  then  be  easier  to  make  it  also  a  people  of  brothers. 


FORENSIC  ORATORY. 

JEREMIAH  S.  BLACK. 
Born  1810.    Died  r88j. 

THE  RIGHT  TO  TRIAL  BY  JURY— EX-PARTE 
MILLIGAN. 

[The  circumstances  which  gave  rise  to  the  case  in  which  this  argu- 
ment was  made  were  briefly  as  follows  :  In  October,  1864,  Lamdin 
P.  Milligan  was  arrested  by  order  of  General  A.  P.  Hovey,  command- 
ing the  military  district  of  Indiana,  and  tried  before  a  military  com- 
mission at  Indianapolis.  He  was  charged  with  joining  and  aiding  a 
secret  society  known  as  the  "  Order  of  American  Knights  or  Sons  of 
Liberty,"  for  the  purpose  of  overthrowing  the  Government,  holding 
communication  with  the  enemy,  conspiring  to  seize  munitions  of  war, 
and  liberating  prisoners.  An  objection  by  Milligan  to  the  authority 
of  the  commission  to  try  him  was  overruled,  he  was  found  guilty  and 
sentenced  to  be  hanged.  Several  days  before  the  sentence  was  to 
have  been  executed  he  filed  a  petition  in  the  United  States  Circuit 
Court  setting  forth  that  he  had  never  been  in  the  military  service  of 
the  United  States,  nor  within  the  limits  of  any  State  engaged  in 
rebellion,  but  for  twenty  years  had  been  an  inhabitant  and  citizen  of 
Indiana.  He  denied,  therefore,  the  jurisdiction  of  the  commission 
and  prayed  that  he  should  either  be  turned  over  to  the  proper  civil 
tribunal,  or  discharged  altogether.  At  the  hearing  of  the  petition, 
the  judges  of  the  Circuit  Court  were  divided  in  opinion  on  three 
questions:  (i)  should  the  writ  of  habeas  corf  us  be  issued?  (2) 
should  Milligan  be  discharged  ?  (3)  did  the  commission  have  juris- 
diction? These  questions  were  then  certified  to  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  United  States  and,  with  a  further  question  of  jurisdiction, 
were  the  points  argued  at  the  hearing  which  took  place  in  the  Decem- 
ber Term,  1866.  Associated  in  the  case  with  Judge  Black  were 
James  A.  Garfield,  David  Dudley  Field,  and  J.  E.  McDonald  ;  assist- 
ing the  Attorney-General  Mr.  Speed,  were  Benjamin  F.  Butler  aud 


132  JEREMIAH  5.   BLACK. 

Henry  Stanbery.  The  court  decided  that  the  writ  should  issue  and 
that  Milligan  was  entitled  to  his  discharge,  on  the  ground  that  the 
military  commission  was  illegal  and  without  jurisdiction. 

The  importance  of  the  case  and  the  questions  involved  will  be  seen 
from  the  following  excerpt,  taken  from  Great  Speeches  by  Great 
Lawyers,  p.  482.  "  This  defense  of  the  right  of  trial  by  jury  is  a 
marvelous  display  of  Judge  Black's  extraordinary  power  and  abilities 
as  a  lawyer,  and  the  enduring  importance  of  the  subject  will  render 
it  interesting  as  long  as  the  individual  liberty  of  the  citizen  shall  be 
preserved  as  a  part  of  the  framework  of  human  government.  It  was 
delivered  during  a  period  of  great  political  excitement,  before  the 
passions  and  prejudices  stored  up  by  the  greatest  civil  war  in  history 
had  been  allayed.  It  affected  the  destiny  of  one  whose  crimes  were 
aimed  at  the  destruction  of  the  Government  itself,  and  the  public 
desire  to  see  the  sentence  of  the  commission  executed  was  very 
general.  Since  the  anger  and  excitement  of  the  times  have  passed 
away,  and  the  great  questions  involved  in  this  case  present  them- 
selves in  their  true  aspect  and  importance,  the  argument  of  Judge 
Black  becomes  conspicuous  as  a  defense  of  the  dearest  right  of  the 
citizen,  and  stands  as  a  monument  to  which  the  eyes  of  mankind  will 
turn  in  the  hour  when  their  rights  are  assailed.  It  will  be  admired 
by  the  student  as  a  comprehensive  exposition  of  the  fundamental 
principles  upon  which  the  law  of  civil  liberty  depends,  and  the  causes 
which  led  to  their  perfection  and  adoption  under  our  system.  The 
subject  loses  the  dry,  tedious  detail  of  a  legal  argument,  and  becomes 
animated  with  the  spirit  and  genius  of  the  speaker,  while  presenting 
a  review  of  the  struggle  between  freedom  and  arbitrary  power  which 
the  world  has  witnessed  for  centuries.  It  will  be  considered  precious 
by  persons  in  every  walk  of  life,  for  it  defines  in  a  masterly  manner 
the  natural  rights  guaranteed  to  each  individual  by  the  organic  law, 
and  its  importance  in  this  respect  clothes  it  with  the  heritage  of 
immortality." 

The  speech  is  reprinted,  through  the  courtesy  of  the  Hon.  Chauncey 
F.  Black,  from  the  Essays  and  Speeches  of  Jeremiah  S.  Black,  pub- 
lished by  Messrs.  D.  Appleton  and  Company.] 

May  it  please  your  Honors: 

I  am  not  afraid  that  you  will  underrate  the  impor- 
tance of  this  case.  It  concerns  the  rights  of  the  whole 
people.  Such  questions  have  generally  been  settled 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  »33 

by  arms.  But  since  the  beginning  of  the  world  no 
battle  has  ever  been  lost  or  won  upon  which  the 
liberties  of  a  nation  were  so  distinctly  staked  as  they 
are  on  the  results  of  this  argument.  The  pen  that 
writes  the  judgment  of  the  court  will  be  mightier  for  5 
good  or  for  evil  than  any  sword  that  ever  was  wielded 
by  mortal  arm. 

As  might  be  expected  from  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
ject, it  has  been  a  good  deal  discussed  elsewhere,  in 
legislative  bodies,   in   public   assemblies,  and   in  the  10 
newspaper  press  of  the  country.     But  there  it  has  been 
mingled  with  interests  and  feelings  not  very  friendly 
to  a  correct  conclusion.     Here  we  are  in  a  higher 
atmosphere,  where  no  passion  can  disturb  the  judg- 
ment or  shake  the  even  balance  in  which  the  scales  15 
of  reason  are  held.     Here  it  is  purely  a  judicial  ques- 
tion; and  I  can  speak  for  my  colleagues  as  well  as  my- 
self when  I  say  that  we  have  no  thought  to  suggest 
which  we  do  not  suppose  to  be  a  fair  element  in  the 
strictly  legal  judgment  which   you  are   required   to  20 
make  up. 

In  performing  the  duty  assigned  to  me  in  the  case, 
I  shall  necessarily  refer  to  the  mere  rudiments  of  con- 
stitutional law;  to  the  most  commonplace  topics  of 
history,  and  to  those  plain  rules  of  justice  and  right  25 
which  pervade  all  our  institutions.  I  beg  your  honors 
to  believe  that  this  is  not  done  because  I  think  that 
the  court,  or  any  member  of  it,  is  less  familiar  with 
these  things  than  I  am,  or  less  sensible  of  their  value; 
but  simply  and  only  because,  according  to  my  view  30 
of  the  subject,  there  is  absolutely  no  other  way  of 
dealing  with  it.  If  the  fundamental  principles  of 
American  liberty  are  attacked,  and  we  are  driven  be- 


134  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

hind  the  inner  walls  of  the  Constitution  to  defend 
them,  we  can  repel  the  assault  only  with  those  same 
old  weapons  which  our  ancestors  used  a  hundred  years 
ago.  You  must  not  think  the  worse  of  our  armor 

5  because  it  happens  to  be  old-fashioned  and  looks  a 
little  rusty  from  long  disuse. 

The  case  before  you  presents  but  a  single  point,  and 
that  an  exceedingly  plain  one.  It  is  not  encumbered 
with  any  of  those  vexed  questions  that  might  be  ex- 

10  pected  to  arise  out  of  a  great  war.  You  are  not  called 
upon  to  decide  what  kind  of  rule  a  military  commander 
may  impose  upon  the  inhabitants  of  a  hostile  country 
which  he  occupies  as  a  conqueror,  or  what  punishment 
he  may  inflict  upon  the  soldiers  of  his  own  army  or 

15  the  followers  of  his  camp;  or  yet  how  he  may  deal 
with  civilians  in  a  beleaguered  city  or  other  place  in 
a  state  of  actual  siege,  which  he  is  required  to  de- 
fend against  a  public  enemy.  This  contest  covers  no 
such  ground  as  that.  The  men  whose  acts  we  com- 

20  plain  of  erected  themselves  into  a  tribunal  for  the  trial 
and  punishment  of  citizens  who  were  connected  in  no 
way  whatever  with  the  Army  or  Navy.  And  this  they 
did  in  the  midst  of  a  community  whose  social  and  legal 
organization  had  never  been  disturbed  by  any  war  or 

25  insurrection,  where  the  courts  were  wide  open,  where 
judicial  process  was  executed  every  day  without  inter- 
ruption, and  where  all  the  civil  authorities,  both  State 
and  national,  were  in  full  exercise  of  their  functions. 
My  clients  *  were  dragged  before  this  strange  tri- 

3o  bunal,  and,  after  a  proceeding  which  it  would  be  mere 
mockery  to  call  a  trial,  they  were  ordered  to  be  hung. 

*  Two  other  men  were  arrested  with  Milligan  and  tried  and  con- 
victed at  the  same  time. 


THE  RIGHT  TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  135 

The  charge  against  them  was  put  into  writing  and  is 
found  on  this  record,  but  you  will  not  be  able  to  de- 
cipher its  meaning.  The  relators  were  not  accused 
of  treason ;  for  no  act  is  imputed  to  them  which,  if  true, 
would  come  within  the  definition  of  that  crime.  It  5 
was  not  conspiracy  under  the  act  of  1861 ;  for  all 
concerned  in  this  business  must  have  known  that  con- 
spiracy was  not  a  capital  offense.  If  the  commis- 
sioners were  able  to  read  English,  they  could  not  help 
but  see  that  it  was  made  punishable,  even  by  fine  and  10 
imprisonment,  only  upon  condition  that  the  parties 
should  first  be  convicted  before  a  Circuit  or  District 
Court  of  the  United  States.  The  Judge-Advocate 
must  have  meant  to  charge  them  with  some  offense 
unknown  to  the  laws,  which  he  chose  to  make  capital  15 
by  legislation  of  his  own,  and  the  commissioners  were 
so  profoundly  ignorant  as  to  think  that  the  legal  inno- 
cence of  the  parties  made  no  difference  in  the  case.  I 
do  not  say,  what  Sir  James  Mackintosh  said  of  a  simi- 
lar proceeding,  that  the  trial  was  a  mere  conspiracy  to  20 
commit  willful  murder  upon  three  innocent  men.  The 
commissioners  are  not  on  trial;  they  are  absent  and 
undefended;  and  they  are  entitled  to  the  benefit  of 
that  charity  which  presumes  them  to  be  wholly  un- 
acquainted with  the  first  principles  of  natural  justice,  25 
and  quite  unable  to  comprehend  either  the  law  or  the 
facts  of  a  criminal  cause. 

Keeping  the  character  of  the  charges  in  mind,  let 
us  come  at  once  to  the  simple  question  upon  which 
the  court  below  divided  in  opinion:  Had  the  commis-  3° 
sioners  jurisdiction — were  they  invested  with  legal 
authority  to  try  the  relators  and  put  them  to  death  for 
the  offense  of  which  they  were  accused?  We  answer, 


136  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

No;  and  therefore  the  whole  proceeding,  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  was  utterly  null  and  void.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  those  who  oppose 
us  to  assert,  and  they  do  assert,  that  the  commissioners 
5  had  complete  legal  jurisdiction,  both  of  the  subject- 
matter  and  of  the  parties,  so  that  their  judgment  upon 
the  law  and  the  facts  is  absolutely  conclusive  and  bind- 

,  ing,  not  subject  to  correction,  nor  open  to  inquiry  in 
any  court  whatever.  Of  these  two  opposite  views, 

10  you  must  adopt  one  or  the  other;  for  there  is  no  mid- 
dle ground  on  which  you  can  possibly  stand. 

I  need  not  say  (for  it  is  the  law  of  the  horn-books) 
that  where  a  court  (whatever  may  be  its  power  in  other 
respects)  presumes  to  try  a  man  for  an  offense  of  which 

15  it  has  no  right  to  take  judicial  cognizance,  all  its  pro- 
ceedings in  that  case  are  null  and  void.  If  the  party 
is  acquitted,  he  cannot  plead  the  acquittal  afterward  in 
bar  of  another  prosecution;  if  he  is  found  guilty  and 
sentenced,  he  is  entitled  to  be  relieved  from  the  pun- 

20  ishment.  If  a  Circuit  Court  of  the  United  States 
should  undertake  to  try  a  party  for  an  offense  clearly 
within  the  exclusive  jurisdiction  of  the  State  courts, 
the  judgment  could  have  no  effect.  If  a  county 
court  in  the  interior  of  a  State  should  arrest  an  officer 

25  of  the  Federal  navy,  try  him,  and  order  him  to  be  hung 
for  some  offense  against  the  law  of  nations,  commit- 
ted upon  the  high  seas  or  in  a  foreign  port,  nobody 
would  treat  such  a  judgment  otherwise  than  with  mere 
derision.  The  Federal  courts  have  jurisdiction  to  try 

30  offenses  against  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  and 
the  authority  of  the  State  courts  is  confined  to  the 
punishment  of  acts  which  are  made  penal  by  State 
laws.  It  follows  that  where  the  accusation  does  not 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  137 

amount  to  an  offense  against  the  law  of  either  the  State 
or  Federal  Government,  no  court  can  have  jurisdiction 
to  try  it.  Suppose,  for  example,  that  the  judges  of 
this  court  should  organize  themselves  into  a  tribunal 
to  try  a  man  for  witchcraft,  or  heresy,  or  treason  5 
against  the  Confederate  States  of  America,  would  any- 
body say  that  your  judgment  had  the  least  validity? 

I  care  not,  therefore,  whether  the  relators  were  in- 
tended to  be  charged  with  treason  or  conspiracy  or 
with  some  offense  of  which  the  law  takes  no  notice.  10 
Either  or  any  way,  the  men  who  undertook  to  try 
them  had  no  jurisdiction  of  the  subject-matter. 

Nor  had  they  jurisdiction  of  the  parties.     It  is  not 
pretended  that  this  was  a  case  of  impeachment,  or  a 
case  arising  in  the  land  or  naval  forces.     It  is  either  15 
nothing  at  all,  or  else  it  is  a  simple  crime  against  the 
United  States,  committed  by  private  individuals  not 
in  the  public  service,  civil  or  military.     Persons  stand- 
ing in  that  relation  to  the  Government  are  answer- 
able for  the  offenses  which  they  may  commit  only  to  20 
the  civil  courts  of  the  country.     So  says  the  Constitu- 
tion, as  we  read  it;  and  the  act  of  Congress  of  March 
3,  1863,  which  was  passed  with  express  reference  to 
persons  precisely  in  the  situation  of  these  men,  de- 
clares that  they  shall  be  delivered  up  for  trial  to  the  25 
proper  civil  authorities. 

There  being  no  jurisdiction  of  the  subject  matter  or 
of  the  parties,  you  are  bound  to  relieve  the  petitioners. 
It  is  as  much  the  duty  of  a  judge  to  protect  the  inno- 
cent as  it  is  to  punish  the  guilty.  Suppose  that  the  30 
secretary  of  some  department  should  take  it  into  his 
head  to  establish  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal  here  in  the 
city  of  Washington,  composed  of  clergymen  "  organ- 


*38  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

ized  to  convict "  everybody  who  prays  after  a  fashion 
inconsistent  with  the  supposed  safety  of  the  State.  If 
he  would  select  the  members  with  a  proper  regard  to 
the  odium  theologicum,  I  think  I  could  insure  him  a 
5  commission  that  would  hang  every  man  and  woman 
who  might  be  brought  before  it.  But  would  you,  the 
judges  of  the  land,  stand  by  and  see  their  sentences 
executed?  No;  you  would  interpose  your  writ  of 
prohibition,  your  habeas  corpus,  or  any  other  process 

10  that  might  be  at  your  command,  between  them  and 
their  victims.  And  you  would  do  that  for  precisely 
the  reason  which  requires  your  intervention  here:  be- 
cause religious  errors,  like  political  errors,  are  not 
crimes  which  anybody  in  this  country  has  jurisdiction 

15  to  punish,  and  because  ecclesiastical  commissions,  like 
military  commissions,  are  not  among  the  judicial  in- 
stitutions of  this  people.  Our  fathers  long  ago  cast 
them  both  aside  among  the  rubbish  of  the  Dark  Ages ; 
and  they  intended  that  we,  their  children,  should  know 

20  them  only  that  we  might  blush  and  shudder  at  the 
shameless  injustice  and  the  brutal  cruelties  which  they 
were  allowed  to  perpetrate  in  other  times  and  other 
countries. 

But  our  friends  on  the  other  side  are  not  at  all  im- 

25  pressed  with  these  views.  Their  brief  corresponds  ex- 
actly with  the  doctrines  propounded  by  the  Attorney- 
General,  in  a  very  elaborate  official  paper  which 
he  published  last  July,  upon  this  same  subject. 
He  then  avowed  it  to  be  his  settled  and  de- 

30  liberate  opinion  that  the  military  might  "  take 
and  kill,  try  and  execute "  (I  use  his  own  words) 
persons  who  had  no  sort  of  connection  with 
the  Army  or  Navy.  And,  though  this  be  done  in 


THE  RIGHT  TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  139 

the  face  of  the  open  courts,  the  judicial  authority, 
according  to  him,  are  utterly  powerless  to  prevent  the 
slaughter  which  may  thus  be  carried  on.  That  is  the 
thesis  which  the  Attorney-General  and  his  assistant 
counselors  are  to  maintain  this  day,  if  they  can  main-  5 
tain  it,  with  all  the  power  of  their  artful  eloquence. 

We,  on  the  other  hand,  submit  that  a  person  not  in 
the  military  or  naval  service  cannot  be  punished  at 
all  until  he  has  had  a  fair,  open,  public  trial  before  an 
impartial  jury,  in  an  ordained  and  established  court,  10 
to  which  the  jurisdiction  has  been  given  by  law  to  try 
him  for  that  specific  offense.  There  is  our  propo- 
sition. Between  the  ground  we  take  and  the  ground 
they  occupy  there  is  and  there  can  be  no  compromise. 
It  is  one  way  or  the  other.  15 

Our  proposition  ought  to  be  received  as  true  with- 
out any  argument  to  support  it;  because  if  that,  or 
something  precisely  equivalent  to  it,  be  not  a  part  of 
our  law,  this  is  not,  what  we  have  always  supposed  it 
to  be,  a  free  country.  Nevertheless,  I  take  upon  my-  20 
self  the  burden  of  showing  affirmatively  not  only  that 
it  is  true,  but  that  it  is  immovably  fixed  in  the  very 
framework  of  the  Government,  so  that  it  is  utterly 
impossible  to  detach  it  without  destroying  the  whole 
political  structure  under  which  we  live.  By  remov-  25 
ing  it  you  destroy  the  life  of  this  nation  as  completely 
as  you  would  destroy  the  life  of  an  individual  by  cut- 
ting the  heart  out  of  his  body.  I  proceed  to  the  proof. 

In  the  first  place,  the  self-evident  truth  will  not  be 
denied  that  the  trial  and  punishment  of  an  offender  30 
against  the  Government  is  the   exercise   of  judicial 
authority.     That  is  a  kind  of  authority  which  would 
be  lost  by  being  diffused  among  the  masses  of  the  peo- 


140  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

pie.  A  judge  would  be  no  judge  if  everybody  else 
were  a  judge  as  well  as  he.  Therefore  in  every  so- 
ciety, however  rude  or  however  perfect  its  organiza- 
tion, the  judicial  authority  is  always  committed  to  the 
5  hands  of  particular  persons,  who  are  trusted  to  use  it 
wisely  and  well;  and  their  authority  is  exclusive;  they 
cannot  share  it  with  others  to  whom  it  has  not  been 
committed.  Where,  then,  is  the  judicial  power  in  this 
country?  Who  are  the  depositaries  of  it  here?  The 

10  Federal  Constitution  answers  that  question  in  very 
plain  words,  by  declaring  that  "  the  judicial  power  of 
the  United  States  shall  be  vested  in  one  Supreme 
Court,  and  in  such  inferior  courts  as  Congress  may 
from  time  to  time  ordain  and  establish."  Congress 

15  has,  from  time  to  time,  ordained  and  established  cer- 
tain inferior  courts;  and  in  them,  together  with  the 
one  Supreme  Court  to  which  they  are  subordinate,  is 
vested  all  the  judicial  power,  properly  so  called,  which 
the  United  States  can  lawfully  exercise.  That  was 

20  the  compact  made  with  the  General  Government  at 
the  time  it  was  created.  The  States  and  the  people 
agreed  to  bestow  upon  that  Government  a  certain  por- 
tion of  the  judicial  power,  which  otherwise  would  have 
remained  in  their  own  hands,  but  gave  it  on  a  solemn 

25  trust,  and  coupled  the  grant  of  it  with  this  express 
condition  that  it  should  never  be  used  in  any  way  but 
one;  that  is,  by  means  of  ordained  and  established 
courts.  Any  person,  therefore,  who  undertakes  to  ex- 
ercise judicial  power  in  any  other  way  not  only  vio- 

30  lates  the  law  of  the  land,  but  he  treacherously 
tramples  upon  the  most  important  part  of  that  sacred 
covenant  which  holds  these  States  together. 

May  it  please  your  honors,  you  know,  and  I  know, 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  14* 

and  everybody  else  knows,  that  it  was  the  intention  of 
the  men  who  founded  this  Republic  to  put  the  life, 
liberty,  and  property  of  every  person  in  it  under  the 
protection  of  a  regular  and  permanent  judiciary,  sepa- 
rate, apart,  distinct,  from  all  other  branches  of  the  5 
Government,  whose  sole  and  exclusive  business  it 
should  be  to  distribute  justice  among  the  people  ac- 
cording to  the  wants  of  each  individual.  It  was  to 
consist  of  courts,  always  open  to  the  complaint  of  the 
injured,  and  always  ready  to  hear  criminal  accusations  10 
when  founded  upon  probable  cause;  surrounded  with 
all  the  machinery  necessary  for  the  investigation  of 
truth,  and  clothed  with  sufficient  power  to  carry  their 
decrees  into  execution.  In  these  courts  it  was  ex- 
pected that  judges  would  sit  who  would  be  upright,  15 
honest,  and  sober  men,  learned  in  the  laws  of  their 
country,  and  lovers  of  justice  from  the  habitual  prac- 
tice of  that  virtue;  independent,  because  their  salaries 
could  not  be  reduced;  and  free  from  party  passion, 
because  their  tenure  of  office  was  for  life.  Although  20 
this  would  place  them  above  the  clamors  of  the  mere 
mob  and  beyond  the  reach  of  Executive  influence,  it 
was  not  intended  that  they  should  be  wholly  irre- 
sponsible. For  any  willful  or  corrupt  violation  of  their 
duty,  they  are  liable  to  be  impeached;  and  they  cannot  25 
escape  the  control  of  an  enlightened  public  opinion, 
for  they  must  sit  with  open  doors,  listen  to  full  dis- 
cussion, and  give  satisfactory  reasons  for  the  judg- 
ments they  pronounce.  In  ordinary  tranquil  times  the 
citizen  might  feel  himself  safe  under  a  judicial  system  30 
so  organized. 

But  our  wise  forefathers  knew  that  tranquillity  was 
not  to  be  always  anticipated  in  a  republic;  the  spirit 


t4«  JEREMIAH  5.   BLACK. 

of  a  free  people  is  often  turbulent.  They  expecte  J 
that  strife  would  rise  between  classes  and  sections,  and 
even  civil  war  might  come,  and  they  supposed  that 
in  such  times  judges  themselves  might  not  be  safely 

S  trusted  in  criminal  cases — especially  in  prosecutions 
for  political  offenses,  where  the  whole  power  of  the 
Executive  is  arrayed  against  the  accused  party.  All 
history  proves  that  public  officers  of  any  government, 
when  they  are  engaged  in  a  severe  struggle  to  retain 

to  their  places,  become  bitter  and  ferocious,  and  hate 
those  who  oppose  them,  even  in  the  most  legitimate 
way,  with  a  rancor  which  they  never  exhibit  toward 
actual  crime.  This  kind  of  malignity  vents  itself  in 
prosecutions  for  political  offenses,  sedition,  con- 

15  spiracy,  libel,  and  treason,  and  the  charges  are  gener- 
ally founded  upon  the  information  of  hireling  spies 
and  common  delators,  who  make  merchandise  of  their 
oaths,  and  trade  in  the  blood  of  their  fellow-men. 
During  the  civil  commotions  in  England,  which  lasted 

20  from  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Charles  I. 
to  the  revolution  of  1688,  the  best  men  and 
the  purest  patriots  that  ever  lived  fell  by  the 
hand  of  the  public  executioner.  Judges  were 
made  the  instruments  for  inflicting  the  most 

25  merciless  sentences  on  men  the  latchet  of  whose 
shoes  the  ministers  that  prosecuted  them  were  not 
worthy  to  stoop  down  and  unloose.  Let  me  say  here 
that  nothing  has  occurred  in  the  history  of  this  coun- 
try to  justify  the  doubt  of  judicial  integrity  which  our 

70  forefathers  seem  to  have  felt.  On  the  contrary,  the 
highest  compliment  that  has  ever  been  paid  to  the 
American  bench  is  embodied  in  this  simple  fact: 
that  if  the  Executive  officers  of  this  Govern- 


THB  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  143 

merit  have  ever  desired  to  take  away  the  life 
or  the  liberty  of  a  citizen  contrary  to  law,  they 
have  not  come  into  the  courts  to  get  it  done; 
they  have  gone  outside  of  the  courts,  and  stepped 
over  the  Constitution,  and  created  their  own  tribunals,  5 
composed  of  men  whose  gross  ignorance  and  supple 
subservience  could  always  be  relied  on  for  those  base 
uses  to  which  no  judge  would  ever  lend  himself.  But 
the  framers  of  the  Constitution  could  act  only  upon 
the  experience  of  that  country  whose  history  they  10 
knew  most  about,  and  there  they  saw  the  brutal  feroc- 
ity of  Jeffreys  and  Scroggs,  the  timidity  of  Guilford, 
and  the  base  venality  of  such  men  as  Saunders  and 
Wright.  It  seemed  necessary,  therefore,  not  only  to 
make  the  judiciary  as  perfect  as  possible,  but  to  give  15 
the  citizen  yet  another  shield  against  the  wrath  and 
malice  of  his  Government.  To  that  end  they  could 
think  of  no  better  provision  than  a  public  trial  before 
an  impartial  jury. 

I  do  not  assert  that  the  jury  trial  is  an  infallible  20 
mode  of  ascertaining  truth.     Like  everything  human, 
it  has  its  imperfections.     I  only  say  that  it  is  the  best 
protection  for  innocence,  and  the  surest  mode  of  pun- 
ishing guilt,  that  has  yet  been  discovered.     It  has 
borne  the  test  of  a  longer  experience,  and  borne  it  bet-  25 
ter  than  any  other  legal  institution  that  ever  existed 
among  men.     England  owes  more  of  her  freedom,  her 
grandeur,  and  her  prosperity  to  that  than  to  all  other 
causes  put  together.     It  has  had  the  approbation  not 
only  of  those  who  lived  under  it,  but  of  great  thinkers  30 
who  looked  at  it  calmly  from  a  distance,  and  judged  it 
impartially:  Montesquieu  and  De  Tocqueville  speak 
of  it  with  an  admiration  as  rapturous  as  Coke  and 


144  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

Blackstone.  Within  the  present  century,  the  most 
enlightened  states  of  Continental  Europe  have  trans- 
planted it  into  their  countries;  and  no  people  ever 
adopted  it  once  and  were  afterward  willing  to  part 

5  with  it.  It  was  only  in  1830  that  an  interference  with 
it  in  Belgium  provoked  a  successful  insurrection  which 
permanently  divided  one  kingdom  into  two.  In  the 
same  year,  the  revolution  of  the  Barricades  gave  the 
right  of  trial  by  jury  to  every  Frenchman. 

10  Those  colonists  of  this  country  who  came  from  the 
British  Islands  brought  this  institution  with  them,  and 
they  regarded  it  as  the  most  precious  part  of  their  in- 
heritance. The  immigrants  from  other  places,  where 
trial  by  jury  did  not  exist,  became  equally  attached  to 

15  it  as  soon  as  they  understood  what  it  was.  There  was 
no  subject  upon  which  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  coun- 
try were  more  perfectly  unanimous  than  they  were  in 
their  determination  to  maintain  this  great  right  un- 
impaired. An  attempt  was  made  to  set  it  aside,  and 

20  substitute  military  trials  in  its  place,  by  Lord  Dun- 
more  in  Virginia,  and  General  Gage  in  Massachusetts, 
accompanied  with  the  excuse,  which  has  been  repeated 
so  often  in  late  days,  namely,  that  rebellion  had  made 
it  necessary;  but  it  excited  intense  popular  anger,  and 

2j  every  colony,  from  New  Hampshire  to  Georgia,  made 
common  cause  with  the  two  whose  rights  had  been 
especially  invaded.  Subsequently  the  Continental 
Congress  thundered  it  into  the  ear  of  the  world,  as  an 
unendurable  outrage,  sufficient  to  justify  universal 

30  insurrection  against  the  authority  of  the  Government 
which  had  allowed  it  to  be  done. 

If  the  men  who  fought  out  our  revolutionary  con- 
test, when  they  came  to  frame  a  government  for  them- 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  MS 

selves  and  their  posterity,  had  failed  to  insert  a  pro- 
vision making  the  trial  by  jury  perpetual  and  univer- 
sal, they  would  have  covered  themselves  all  over  with 
infamy  as  with  a  garment ;  for  they  would  have  proved 
themselves  basely  recreant  to  the  principles  of  that  5 
very  liberty  of  which  they  professed  to  be  the  special 
champions.  But  they  w:ere  guilty  of  no  such  treach- 
ery. They  not  only  took  care  of  the  trial  by  jury, 
but  they  regulated  every  step  to  be  taken  in  a  crimi- 
nal trial.  They  knew  very  well  that  no  people  could  10 
be  free  under  a  government  which  had  the  power  to 
punish  without  restraint.  Hamilton  expressed  in  The 
Federalist  the  universal  sentiment  of  his  time  when 
he  said  that  the  arbitrary  power  of  conviction  and  pun- 
ishment for  pretended  offenses  had  been  the  great  15 
engine  of  despotism  in  all  ages  and  all  countries.  The 
existence  of  such  a  power  is  utterly  incompatible  with 
freedom.  The  difference  between  a  master  and  his 
slave  consists  only  in  this:  that  the  master  holds  the 
lash  in  his  hands,  and  he  may  use  it  without  legal  re-  20 
straint,  while  the  naked  back  of  the  slave  is  bound  to 
take  whatever  is  laid  on  it. 

But  our  fathers  were  not  absurd  enough  to  put  un- 
limited power  in  the  hands  of  the  ruler,  and  take  away 
the  protection  of  law  from  the  rights  of  individuals.  25 
It  was  not  thus  that  they  meant  "  to  secure  the  bless- 
ings of  liberty  to  themselves  and  their  posterity." 
They  determined  that  not  one  drop  of  the  blood  which 
had  been  shed  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  dur- 
ing seven  centuries  of  contest  with  arbitrary  power,  30 
should  sink  into  the  ground;  but  the  fruits  of  every 
popular  victory  should  be  garnered  up  in  this  new 
government.  Of  all  the  great  rights  already  won  they 


146  JEREMIAH  5.   BLACK. 

threw  not  an  atom  away.  They  went  over  Magna 
Charta,  the  Petition  of  Rights,  the  Bill  of  Rights,  and 
the  rules  of  the  common  law,  and  whatever  was  found 
there  to  favor  individual  liberty  they  carefully  inserted 
5  in  their  own  system,  improved  by  clearer  expression, 
strengthened  by  heavier  sanctions,  and  extended  by  a 
more  universal  application.  They  put  all  those  pro- 
visions into  the  organic  law,  so  that  neither  tyranny 
in  the  Executive  nor  party  rage  in  the  Legislature 

10  could  change  them  without  destroying  the  Govern- 
ment itself. 

Look  for  a  moment  at  the  particulars,  and  see  how 
carefully  everything  connected  with  the  administra- 
tion of  punitive  justice  is  guarded. 

15  i.  No  ex  post  facto  law  shall  be  passed.  No  man 
shall  be  answerable  criminally  for  any  act  which  was 
not  defined  and  made  punishable  as  a  crime  by  some 
law  in  force  at  the  time  when  the  act  was  done. 

2.  For  an  act  which  is  criminal  he  cannot  be  ar- 
20  rested  without  a  judicial  warrant  founded  on  proof  of 

probable  cause.  He  shall  not  be  kidnaped  and  shut 
up  on  the  mere  report  of  some  base  spy,  who  gathers 
the  materials  of  a  false  accusation  by  crawling  into  his 
house  and  listening  at  the  key-hole  of  his  chamber 
25  door. 

3.  He  shall  not  be  compelled  to  testify  against  him- 
self.    He  may  be  examined  before  he  is  committed, 
and  tell  his  own  story  if  he  pleases;  but  the  rack  shall 
be  put  out  of  sight,  and  even  his  conscience  shall  not 

30  be  tortured ;  nor  shall  his  unpublished  papers  be  used 
against  him,  as  was  done  most  wrongfully  in  the  case 
of  Algernon  Sidney. 

4.  He  shall  be  entitled  to  a  speedy  trial;  not  kept 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  147 

in  prison  for  an  indefinite  time  without  the  opportunity 
of  vindicating  his  innocence. 

5.  He  shall  be  informed  of  the  accusation,  its  na- 
ture, and  grounds.     The  public  accuser  must  put  the 
charge  into  the  form  of  a  legal  indictment,  so  that  the  5 
party  can  meet  it  full  in  the  face. 

6.  Even  to  the  indictment  he  need  not  answer  unless 
a  grand  jury,  after  hearing  the  evidence,  shall  say 
upon  their  oaths  that  they  believe  it  to  be  true. 

7.  Then  comes  the  trial,  and  it  must  be  before  a  10 
regular  court,  of  competent  jurisdiction  ordained  and 
established  for  the  State  and  district  in  which  the  crime 
was  committed;  and  this  shall  not  be  evaded  by  a 
legislative  change  in  the  district  after  the  crime  is 
alleged  to  be  done.  15 

8.  His  guilt  or  innocence  shall  be  determined  by  an 
impartial  jury.     These  English  words  are  to  be  under- 
stood in  their  English  sense,  and  they  mean  that  the 
jurors  shall  be  fairly  selected  by  a  sworn  officer  from 
among  the  peers  of  the  party,  residing  within  the  local  20 
jurisdiction  of  the  court.     When  they  are  called  into 
the  box  he  can  purge  the  panel  of  all  dishonesty,  preju- 
dice, personal   enmity,  and  ignorance,  by  a  certain 
number  of  peremptory  challenges,  and  as  many  more 
challenges  as  he  can  sustain  by  showing  reasonable  25 
cause. 

9.  The  trial  shall  be  public  and  open,  that  no  under- 
hand advantage  may  be  taken.     The  party  shall  be 
confronted  with  the  witnesses  against  him,  have  com- 
pulsory process  for  his  own  witnesses,  and  be  entitled  30 
to  the  assistance  of  counsel  in  his  defense. 

10.  After  the  evidence  is  heard  and  discussed,  unless 
the  jury  shall,  upon  their  oaths,  unanimously  agree  to 


148  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

surrender  him  up  into  the  hands  of  the  court  as  a 
guilty  man,  not  a  hair  of  his  head  can  be  touched  by 
way  of  punishment. 

11.  After  a  verdict  of  guilty  he  is  still  protected. 
5  No  cruel  or  unusual  punishment  shall  be  inflicted,  nor 

any  punishment  at  all,  except  what  is  annexed  by  the 
law  to  his  offense.  It  cannot  be  doubted  for  a  mo- 
ment that,  if  a  person  convicted  of  an  offense  not 
capital  were  to  be  hung  on  the  order  of  a  judge,  such 
10  judge  would  be  guilty  of  murder,  as  plainly  as  if  he 
should  come  down  from  the  bench,  tuck  up  the  sleeves 
of  his  gown,  and  let  out  the  prisoner's  blood  with  his 
own  hand. 

12.  After  all  is  over,  the  law  continues  to  spread  its 
15  guardianship  around  him.     Whether  he  is  acquitted 

or  condemned,  he  shall  never  again  be  molested  for 
that  offense.  No  man  shall  be  twice  put  in  jeopardy 
of  life  or  limb  for  the  same  cause. 

These  rules  apply  to  all  criminal  prosecutions.     But, 

20  in  addition  to  these,  certain  special  regulations  were 
required  for  treason — the  one  great  political  charge 
under  which  more  innocent  men  have  fallen  than  any 
other.  A  tyrannical  government  calls  everybody  a 
traitor  who  shows  the  least  unwillingness  to  be  a  slave. 

25  The  party  in  power  never  fails,  when  it  can,  to  stretch 
the  law  on  that  subject  by  construction,  so  as  to  cover 
its  honest  and  conscientious  opponents.  In  the  ab- 
sence of  a  constitutional  provision,  it  was  justly  feared 
that  statutes  might  be  passed  which  would  put  the 

30  lives  of  the  most  patriotic  citizens  at  the  mercy  of  the 
basest  minions  that  skulk  about  under  the  pay  of  the 
Executive.  Therefore  a  definition  of  treason  was 
given  in  the  fundamental  law,  and  the  legislative  au- 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  149 

thority  could  not  enlarge  it  to  serve  the  purpose  of 
partisan  malice.  The  nature  and  amount  of  evidence 
required  to  prove  the  crime  was  also  prescribed,  so 
that  prejudice  and  enmity  might  have  no  share  in  the 
conviction.  And,  lastly,  the  punishment  was  so  5 
limited  that  the  property  of  the  party  could  not  be  con- 
fiscated, and  used  to  reward  the  agents  of  his  perse- 
cutors, or  strip  his  family  of  their  subsistence. 

If  these  provisions  exist  in  full  force,  unchangeable 
and  irrepealable,  then  we  are  not  hereditary  bonds-  10 
men.  Every  citizen  may  safely  pursue  his  lawful  call- 
ing in  the  open  day;  and  at  night,  if  he  is  conscious 
of  innocence,  he  may  lie  down  in  security  and  sleep  the 
sound  sleep  of  a  freeman. 

I  say  they  are  in  force,  and  they  will  remain  in  force.  15 
We  have  not  surrendered  them,  and  we  never  will. 
If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst  we  will  look  to  the  liv- 
ing God  for  his  help,  and  defend  our  rights  and  the 
rights  of  our  children  to  the  last  extremity.     Those 
men  who  think  we  can  be  subjected  and  abjected  to  the  20 
condition  of  mere  slaves  are  wholly  mistaken.     The 
great  race  to  which  we  belong  has  not  degenerated  so 
fatally. 

But  how  am  I  to  prove  the  existence  of  these  rights? 
I  do  not  propose  to  do  it  by  a  long  chain  of  legal  argu-  25 
mentation,  nor  by  the  production  of  numerous  books 
with   the  leaves   dog-eared   and   the   pages   marked. 
If   it    depended    upon    judicial    precedents,    I    think 
I   could   produce   as   many   as   might   be   necessary. 
If  I  claimed  this  freedom,  under  any  kind  of  prescrip-  30 
tion,  I  could  prove  a  good  long  possession  in  our- 
selves and  those  under  whom  we  claim  it.     I  might 
begin  with  Tacitus  and  show  how  the  contest  arose 


15°  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

in  the  forests  of  Germany  more  than  two  thousand 
years  ago;  how  the  rough  virtues  and  sound  common 
sense  of  that  people  established  the  right  of  trial  by 
jury,  and  thus  started  on  a  career  which  has  made 
5  their  posterity  the  foremost  race  that  ever  lived  in  all 
the  tide  of  time.  The  Saxons  carried  it  to  England, 
and  were  ever  ready  to  defend  it  with  their  blood.  It 
was  crushed  out  by  the  Danish  invasion;  and  all  that 
they  suffered  of  tyranny  and  oppression  during  the 

xo  period  of  their  subjugation  resulted  from  the  want  of 
trial  by  jury.  If  that  had  been  conceded  to  them, 
the  reaction  would  not  have  taken  place  which  drove 
back  the  Danes  to  their  frozen  homes  in  the  North. 
But  those  ruffian  sea-kings  could  not  understand  that, 

15  and  the  reaction  came.  Alfred,  the  greatest  of  revo- 
lutionary heroes,  and  the  wisest  monarch  that  ever 
sat  on  a  throne,  made  the  first  use  of  his  power,  after 
the  Saxons  restored  it,  to  re-establish  their  ancient 
laws.  He  had  promised  them  that  he  would,  and  he 

20  was  true  to  them,  because  they  had  been  true  to  him. 
But  it  was  not  easily  done;  the  courts  were  opposed  to 
it,  for  it  limited  their  power — a  kind  of  power  that 
everybody  covets — the  power  to  punish  without  re- 
gard to  law.  He  was  obliged  to  hang  forty-four 

25  judges  in  one  year  for  refusing  to  give  his  subjects  a 
trial  by  jury.  When  the  historian  says  that  he  hung 
them,  it  is  not  meant  that  he  put  them  to  death  with- 
out a  trial.  He  had  them  impeached  before  the  grand 
council  of  the  nation,  the  Wittenagemote,  the  Parlia- 

30  ment  of  that  time.  During  the  subsequent  period  of 
Saxon  domination  no  man  on  English  soil  was  power- 
ful enough  to  refuse  a  legal  trial  to  the  meanest  peas- 
ant. If  any  minister  or  any  king,  in  war  or  in  peace, 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  151 

had  dared  to  punish  a  freeman  by  a  tribunal  of  his  own 
appointment,  he  would  have  roused  the  wrath  of  the 
whole  population ;  all  orders  of  society  would  have  re- 
sisted it;  lord  and  vassal,  knight  and  squire,  priest  and 
penitent,  bocman  and  socman,  master  and  thrall,  copy-  5 
holder  and  villein,  would  have  risen  in  one  mass  and 
burned  the  offender  to  deatn  in  his  castle,  or  followed 
him  in  his  flight  and  torn  him  to  atoms.  It  was  again 
trampled  down  by  the  Norman  conquerors;  but  the 
evils  resulting  from  the  want  of  it  united  all  classes  in  10 
the  effort  which  compelled  King  John  to  restore  it  by 
the  Great  Charter.  Everybody  is  familiar  with  the 
struggles  which  the  English  people,  during  many  gen- 
erations, made  for  their  rights  with  the  Plantagenets, 
the  Tudors,  and  the  Stuarts,  and  which  ended  finally  15 
in  the  revolution  of  1688,  when  the  liberties  of  Eng- 
land were  placed  upon  an  impregnable  basis  by  the 
Bill  of  Rights. 

Many  times  the  attempt  was  made  to  stretch  the 
royal  authority  far  enough  to  justify  military  trials ;  20 
but  it  never  had  more  than  temporary  success.     Five 
hundred  years  ago  Edward  II.  closed  up  a  great  rebel- 
lion by  taking  the  life  of  its  leader,  the  Earl  of  Lan- 
caster,   after    trying    him    before    a    military    court. 
Eight  years  later  that  same  king,  together  with  his  25 
lords  and  commons  in  Parliament  assembled,  acknowl- 
edged with  shame  and  sorrow  that  the  execution  of 
Lancaster  was  a  mere  murder,  because  the  courts  were 
open  and  he  might  have  had  a  legal  trial.     Queen 
Elizabeth,  for  sundry  reasons  affecting  the  safety  of  30 
the  State,  ordered  that  certain  offenders  not  of  her 
army  should  be  tried  according  to  the  law  martial. 
But  she  heard  the  storm  of  popular  vengeance  rising, 


15 2  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

and,  haughty,  imperious,  self-willed  as  she  was,  she 
yielded  the  point;  for  she  knew  that  upon  that  subject 
the  English  people  would  never  consent  to  be  trifled 
with.  Strafford,  as  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  tried 
5  the  Viscount  Stormont  before  a  military  commission. 
When  impeached  for  it,  he  pleaded  in  vain  that  Ire- 
land was  in  a  state  of  insurrection,  that  Stormont  was 
a  traitor,  and  the  army  would  be  undone  if  it  could 
not  defend  itself  without  appealing  to  the  civil  courts. 

10  The  Parliament  was  deaf;  the  king  himself  could  not 
save  him;  he  was  condemned  to  suffer  death  as  a 
traitor  and  a  murderer.  Charles  I.  issued  commis- 
sions to  divers  officers  for  the  trial  of  his  enemies  ac- 
cording to  the  course  of  military  law.  If  rebellion 

15  ever  was  an  excuse  for  such  an  act,  he  could  surely 
have  pleaded  it;  for  there  was  scarcely  a  spot  in  his 
kingdom,  from  sea  to  sea,  where  the  royal  authority 
was  not  disputed  by  somebody.  Yet  the  Parliament 
demanded  in  their  Petition  of  Right,  and  the  king  was 

20  obliged  to  concede,  that  all  his  commissions  were  ille- 
gal. James  II.  claimed  the  right  to  suspend  the 
operation  of  the  penal  laws — a  power  which  the 
courts  denied;  but  the  experience  of  his  predecessors 
taught  him  that  he  could  not  suspend  any  man's  right 

25  to  a  trial.  He  could  easily  have  convicted  the  seven 
bishops  of  any  offense  he  saw  fit  to  charge  them  with, 
if  he  could  have  selected  their  judges  from  among  the 
mercenary  creatures  to  whom  he  had  given  com- 
mands in  his  army.  But  this  he  dared  not  do.  He 

30  was  obliged  to  send  the  bishops  to  a  jury  and  endure 
the  mortification  of  seeing  them  acquitted.  He,  too, 
might  have  had  rebellion  for  an  excuse,  if  rebellion  be 
an  excuse.  The  conspiracy  was  already  ripe,  which  a 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  153 

lew  months  afterward  made  him  an  exile  and  an  out- 
cast; he  had  reason  to  believe  that  the  Prince  of 
Orange  was  making  his  preparations  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Channel  to  invade  the  kingdom,  where  thou- 
sands burned  to  join  him;  nay,  he  pronounced  the  5 
bishops  guilty  of  rebellion  by  the  very  act  for  which 
he  arrested  them.  He  had  raised  an  army  to  meet  the 
rebellion,  and  he  was  on  Hounslow  Heath,  reviewing 
the  troops  organized  for  that  purpose,  when  he  heard 
the  great  shout  of  joy  that  went  up  from  Westminster  10 
Hall,  was  echoed  back  from  Temple  Bar,  spread 
down  the  city  and  over  the  Thames,  and  rose  from 
every  vessel  on  the  river — the  simultaneous  shout  of 
two  hundred  thousand  men  for  the  triumph  of  justice 
and  law.  15 

If  it  were  worth  the  time,  I  might  detain  you  by 
showing  how  this  subject  was  treated  by  the  French 
Court  of  Cassation,  in  Geoffrey's  case,  under  the  Con- 
stitution of  1830,  when  a  military  judgment  was  un- 
hesitatingly pronounced  to  be  void,  though  ordered  20 
by  the  king,  after  a  proclamation  declaring  Paris  in  a 
state  of  siege.  Fas  est  ab  hoste  doceri:  we  may  lawfully 
learn  something  from  our  enemies — at  all  events,  we 
should  blush  at  the  thought  of  not  being  equal  on  such 
a  subject  to  the  courts  of  Virginia,  Georgia,  Mississ-  25 
ippi,  and  Texas,  whose  decisions,  my  colleague,  Gen- 
eral Garfield,  has  read  and  commented  on. 

The  truth  is,  that  no  authority  exists  anywhere  in 
the  world  for  the  doctrine  of  the  Attorney-General. 
No  judge  or  jurist,  no  statesman  or  parliamentary  30 
orator,  on  this  or  the  other  side  of  the  water,  sustains 
him.  Every  elementary  writer  from  Coke  to  Wharton 
is  against  him.  All  military  authors,  who  profess  to 


154  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

know  the  duties  of  their  profession,  admit  themselves 
to  be  under,  not  above,  the  laws.  No  book  can  be 
found  in  any  library  to  justify  the  assertion  that  mili- 
tary tribunals  may  try  a  citizen  at  a  place  where  the 

5  courts  are  open.  When  I  say  no  book,  I  mean,  of 
course,  no  book  of  acknowledged  authority.  I  do  not 
deny  that  hireling  clergymen  have  often  been  found  to 
disgrace  the  pulpit  by  trying  to  prove  the  divine  right 
of  kings  and  other  rulers  to  govern  as  they  please.  It 

10  is  true,  also,  that  court  sycophants  and  party  hacks 
have  many  times  written  pamphlets,  and  perhaps  large 
volumes,  to  show  that  those  whom  they  serve  should 
be  allowed  to  work  out  their  bloody  will  upon  the  peo- 
ple. No  abuse  of  power  is  too  flagrant  to  find 

15  its  defenders  among  such  servile  creatures.  Those 
butchers'  dogs,  that  feed  upon  garbage  and  fatten 
upon  the  offal  of  the  shambles,  are  always  ready  to 
bark  at  whatever  interferes  with  the  trade  of  their 
master. 

20  But  this  case  does  not  depend  on  authority.  It  is 
rather  a  question  of  fact  than  of  law. 

I  prove  my  right  to  a  trial  by  jury,  just  as  I  would 
prove  my  title  to  an  estate  if  I  held  in  my  hand  a 
solemn  deed  conveying  it  to  me,  coupled  with  unde- 

25  niable  evidence  of  long  and  undisturbed  possession 
under  and  according  to  the  deed.  There  is  the 
charter  by  which  we  claim  to  hold  it.  It  is  called  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States.  It  is  signed  by  the 
sacred  name  of  George  Washington,  and  by  thirty- 

30  nine  other  names,  only  less  illustrious  than  his.  They 
represented  every  independent  State  then  upon  this 
continent,  and  each  State  afterward  ratified  their  work 
by  a  separate  convention  of  its  own  people.  Every 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  *55 

State  that  subsequently  came  in  acknowledged  that 
this  was  the  great  standard  by  which  their  rights  were 
to  be  measured.  Every  man  that  has  ever  held  office 
in  this  country,  from  that  time  to  this,  has  taken  an 
oath  that  he  would  support  and  sustain  it  through  good  5 
report  and  through  evil.  The  Attorney-General  him- 
self became  a  party  to  the  instrument  when  he  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  Gospel  of  God  and  solemnly  swore 
that  he  would  give  to  me  and  every  other  citizen  the 
full  benefit  of  all  it  contains.  10 

What  does  it  contain?    This  among  other  things: 

"  The  trial  of  all  crimes  except  in  cases  of  impeach- 
ment shall  be  by  jury." 

Again :  "  No  person  shall  be  held  to  answer  for  a 
capital  or  otherwise  infamous  crime  unless  on  a  pre- 15 
sentment  or  indictment  of  a  grand  jury,  except  in 
cases  arising  in  the  land  and  n~.val  forces,  or  in  the 
militia  when  in  actual  service  in  time  of  war  or  pub- 
lic danger;  nor  shall  any  person  be  subject  for  the 
same  offense  to  be  twice  put  in  jeopardy  of  life  or  limb,  20 
nor  be  compelled  in  any  criminal  case  to  be  a  witness 
against  himself,  nor  be  deprived  of  life,  liberty,  or 
property  without  due  process  of  law ;  nor  shall  private 
property  be  taken  for  public  use  without  just  com- 
pensation." 25 

This  is  not  all ;  another  article  declares  that  "  in  all 
criminal  prosecutions  the  accused  shall  enjoy  the  right 
to  a  speedy  and  public  trial,  by  an'impartial  jury  of  the 
State  and  district  wherein  the  crime  shall  have  been 
committed,  which  district  shall  have  been  previously  30 
ascertained  by  law;  and  to  be  informed  of  the  nature 
and  cause  of  the  accusation ;  to  be  confronted  with  the 
witnesses  against  him;  to  have  compulsory  process 


156  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

for  the  witnesses  in  his  favor,  and  to  have  the  assist- 
ance of  counsel  for  his  defense." 

Is  there  any  ambiguity  there?  If  that  does  not  sig- 
nify that  a  jury  trial  shall  be  the  exclusive  and  only 
5  means  of  ascertaining  guilt  in  criminal  cases,  then  I 
demand  to  know  what  words  or  what  collocation  of 
words  in  the  English  language  would  have  that  effect? 
Does  this  mean  that  a  fair,  open,  speedy,  public  trial 
by  an  impartial  jury  shall  be  given  only  to  those  per- 

jo  sons  against  whom  no  special  grudge  is  felt  by  the 
Attorney-General,  or  the  Judge-Advocate,  or  the  head 
of  a  department?  Shall  this  inestimable  privilege  be 
extended  only  to  men  whom  the  administration  does 
not  care  to  convict?  Is  it  confined  to  vulgar  crimi- 

15  nals,  who  commit  ordinary  crimes  against  society,  and 
shall  it  be  denied  to  men  who  are  accused  of  such 
offenses  as  those  for  which  Sidney  and  Russell  were 
beheaded,  and  Alice  Lisle  was  hung,  and  Elizabeth 
Gaunt  was  burned  alive,  and  John  Bunyan  was  im- 

20  prisoned  fourteen  years,  and  Baxter  was  whipped  at 
the  cart's  tail,  and  Prynne  had  his  ears  cut  off?  No; 
the  words  of  the  Constitution  are  all-embracing — 

"As  broad  and  general  as  the  casing  air." 

The  trial  of  ALL  crimes  shall  be  by  jury.     ALL 
25  persons  accused  shall  enjoy  that  privilege — and  NO 
person  shall  be  held  to  answer  in  any  other  way. 

That  would  be  sufficient  without  more.  But  there 
is  another  consideration  which  gives  it  tenfold  power. 
It  is  a  universal  rule  of  construction  that  general 
30  words  in  any  instrument,  though  they  may  be  weak- 
ened by  enumeration,  are  always  strengthened  by  ex- 
ceptions. Here  is  no  attempt  to  enumerate  the 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  157 

particular  cases  in  which  men  charged  with  criminal 
offenses  shall  be  entitled  to  a  jury  trial.  It  is  simply 
declared  that  all  shall  have  it.  But  that  is  coupled 
with  a  statement  of  two  specific  exceptions:  cases  of 
impeachment,  and  cases  arising  in  the  land  or  naval  5 
forces.  These  exceptions  strengthen  the  application 
of  the  general  rule  to  all  other  cases.  Where  the  law- 
giver himself  has  declared  when  and  in  what  circum- 
stances you  may  depart  from  the  general  rule,  you 
shall  not  presume  to  leave  that  onward  path  for  other  10 
reasons,  and  make  different  exceptions.  To  excep- 
tions, the  maxim  is  always  applicable,  that  expressio 
ttnius  exclusio  est  altcrius. 

But  we  are  answered  that  the  judgment  under  con- 
sideration was  pronounced  in  time  of  \var,  and  it  is  15 
therefore,  at  least  morally,  excusable.     There  may,  or 
there  may  not  be  something  in  that.     I  admit  that  the 
merits  or  demerits  of  any  particular  act,  whether  it  in- 
volve a  violation  of  the  Constitution  or  not,  depend 
upon  the  motives  that  prompted  it,  the  time,  the  occa-  20 
sion,  and  all  the  attending  circumstances.     When  the 
people  of  this  country  come  to  decide  upon  the  acts 
of  their  rulers,  they  will  take  all  these  things  into  con- 
sideration.    But  that  presents  the  political  aspect  of 
the  case,  with  which,  I  trust,  we  have  nothing  to  do  25 
here.     I  decline  to  discuss  it.     I  would  only  say.  in 
order  to  prevent  misapprehension,  that  I  think  it  is 
precisely  in  a  time  of  war  and  civil  commotion  that  we 
should  double  the  guards  upon  the  Constitution.     If 
the  sanitary  regulations  which  defend  the  health  of  a  30 
city  are  ever  to  be  relaxed,  it  ought  certainly  not  to  be 
done  when  pestilence  is  abroad.     When  the  Mississ- 
ippi shrinks  within  its  natural  channel,  and  creeps 


IS8  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

lazily  along  the  bottom,  the  inhabitants  of  the  adjoin- 
ing shore  have  no  need  of  a  dike  to  save  them  from 
inundation.  But  when  the  booming  flood  comes 
down  from  above,  and  swells  into  a  volume  which  rises 
5  high  above  the  plain  on  either  side,  then  a  crevasse  in 
the  levee  becomes  a  most  serious  thing.  So  in  peace- 
able and  quiet  times  our  legal  rights  are  in  little  dan- 
ger of  being  overborne;  but  when  the  wave  of  arbi- 
trary power  lashes  itself  into  violence  and  rage,  and 

10  goes  surging  up  against  the  barriers  which  are  made 
to  confine  it,  then  wre  need  the  whole  strength  of  an 
unbroken  Constitution  to  save  us  from  destruction. 
But  this  is  a  question  which  properly  belongs  to  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  stump  and  the  newspaper. 

15  There  is  another  ^wasi-political  argument — neces- 
sity. If  the  law  was  violated  because  it  could  not  be 
obeyed,  that  might  be  an  excuse.  But  no  absolute 
compulsion  is  pretended  here.  These  commissioners 
acted,  at  most,  under  what  they  regarded  as  a  moral 

20  necessity.  The  choice  was  left  them  to  obey  the  law 
or  disobey  it.  The  disobedience  was  only  necessary 
as  means  to  an  end  which  they  thought  desirable ;  and 
now  they  assert  that  though  these  means  are  unlawful 
and  wrong,  they  are  made  right,  because  without  them 

25  the  object  could  not  be  accomplished;  in  other  words, 
the  end  justifies  the  means.  There  you  have  a  rule  of 
conduct  denounced  by  all  law,  human  and  divine,  as 
being  pernicious  in  policy  and  false  in  morals.  See 
how  it  applies  to  this  case.  Here  were  three  men 

30  whom  it  was  desirable  to  remove  out  of  this  world, 
but  there  was  no  proof  on  which  any  court  would 
take  their  lives;  therefore  it  was  necessary,  and  being 
necessary  it  was  right  and  proper,  to  create  an  illegal 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL   BY  JURY.  159 

tribunal  which  would  put  them  to  death  without  proof. 
By  the  same  mode  of  reasoning  you  can  prove  it 
equally  right  to  poison  them  in  their  food  or  stab 
them  in  their  sleep. 

Nothing  that  the  worst  men  ever  propounded  has  5 
produced  so  much  oppression,  misgovernment,  and 
suffering  as  this  pretense  of  State  necessity.  A  great 
authority  calls  it  "  the  tyrant's  devilish  plea  ";  and  the 
common  honesty  of  all  mankind  has  branded  it  with 
everlasting  infamy.  10 

Of  course,  it  is  mere  absurdity  to  say  that  these  re- 
lators  were  necessarily  deprived  of  their  right  to  a  fair 
and  legal  trial,  for  the  record  shows  that  a  court  of 
competent  jurisdiction  was  sitting  at  the  very  time  and 
in  the  same  town,  where  justice  would  have  been  done  15 
without  sale,  denial,  or  delay.  But  concede,  for  the 
argument's  sake,  that  a  trial  by  jury  was  wholly  im- 
possible; admit  that  there  was  an  absolute,  overwhelm- 
ing, imperious  necessity  operating  so  as  literally  to 
compel  every  act  which  the  commissioners  did :  would  20 
that  give  their  sentence  of  death  the  validity  and  force 
of  a  legal  judgment  pronounced  by  an  ordained  and  es- 
tablished court?  The  question  answers  itself.  This 
trial  was  a  violation  of  law,  and  no  necessity  could  be 
more  than  a  mere  excuse  for  those  who  committed  it.  2$ 
If  the  commissioners  were  on  trial  for  murder  or  con- 
spiracy to  murder,  they  might  plead  necessity  if  the 
fact  were  true,  just  as  they  would  plead  insanity  or 
anything  else  to  show  that  their  guilt  was  not  willful. 
But  we  are  now  considering  the  legal  effect  of  their  30 
decision,  and  that  depends  on  their  legal  authority  to 
make  it.  They  had  no  such  authority;  they  usurped 
a  jurisdiction  which  the  law  not  only  did  not  give  them, 


160  JEREMIAH  S.    BLACK. 

but  expressly  forbade  them  to  exercise,  and  it  follows 
that  their  act  is  void,  whatever  may  have  been  the  real 
or  supposed  excuse  for  it. 

If  these  commissioners,  instead  of  aiming  at  the  life 
5  and  liberty  of  the  relators,  had  attempted  to  deprive 
them  of  their  property  by  a  sentence  of  confiscation, 
would  any  court  in  Christendom  declare  that  such  a 
sentence  divested  the  title?  Or  would  a  person  claim- 
ing under  the  sentence  make  his  right  any  better  by 

10  showing  that  the  illegal  assumption  of  jurisdiction  was 
accompanied  by  some  excuse  which  might  save  the 
commissioners  from  a  criminal  prosecution? 

Let  me  illustrate  still  further.  Suppose  you,  the 
judges  of  this  court,  to  be  surrounded  in  the  hall  where 

15  you  are  sitting  by  a  body  of  armed  insurgents,  and 
compelled  by  main  force  to  pronounce  sentence  of 
death  upon  the  President  of  the  United  States  for 
some  act  of  his  upon  which  you  have  no  legal  au- 
thority to  adjudicate.  There  would  be  a  valid  sen- 

20  tence  if  necessity  alone  could  create  jurisdiction.  But 
could  the  President  be  legally  executed  under  it? 
No;  the  compulsion  under  which  you  acted  would  be 
a  good  defense  for  you  against  an  impeachment  or  an 
indictment  for  murder,  but  it  would  add  nothing  to  the 

25  validity  of  a  judgment  which  the  law  forbade  you  to 
give. 

That  a  necessity  for  violating  the  law  is  nothing 
more  than  a  mere  excuse  to  the  perpetrator,  and  does 
not  in  any  legal  sense  change  the  quality  of  the  act 

30  itself  in  its  operation  upon  other  parties,  is  a  proposi- 
tion too  plain  on  original  principles  to  need  the  aid  of 
authority.  I  do  not  see  how  any  man  of  common  sense 
is  to  stand  up  and  dispute  it.  But  there  is  decisive 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  l6l 

authority  upon  the  point.  In  1815,  at  New  Orleans, 
General  Jackson  took  upon  himself  the  command  of 
every  person  in  the  city,  suspended  the  functions  of 
all  the  civil  authorities,  and  made  his  own  will  for  a 
time  the  only  rule  of  conduct.  It  was  believed  to  be  5 
absolutely  necessary.  Judges,  officers  of  the  city  cor- 
poration, and  members  of  the  State  Legislature 
insisted  on  it  as  the  only  way  to  save  the  "  booty  and 
beauty  "  of  the  place  from  the  unspeakable  outrages 
committed  at  Badajos  and  St.  Sebastian  by  the  very  10 
same  troops  then  marching  to  the  attack.  Jackson 
used  the  power  thus  taken  by  him  moderately,  spar- 
ingly, benignly,  and  only  for  the  purpose  of  prevent- 
ing mutiny  in  his  camp.  A  single  mutineer  was  re- 
strained by  a  short  confinement,  and  another  was  sent  15 
four  miles  up  the  river.  But,  after  he  had  saved  the 
city,  and  the  danger  was  all  over,  he  stood  before  the 
court  to  be  tried  by  the  law;  his  conduct  was  decided 
to  be  illegal  by  the  same  judge  who  had  declared  it  to 
be  necessary,  and  he  paid  the  penalty  without  a  mur-  20 
mur.  The  Supreme  Court  of  Louisiana,  in  Johnson 
vs.  Duncan,  decided  that  everything  done  during  the 
siege  in  pursuance  of  martial  rule,  but  in  conflict  with 
the  law  of  the  land,  was  void  and  of  none  effect,  with- 
out reference  to  the  circumstances  which  made  it  nee-  25 
essary.  Long  afterward  the  fine  imposed  upon 
Jackson  was  refunded,  because  his  friends,  while  they 
admitted  him  to  have  violated  the  law,  insisted  that 
the  necessity  which  drove  him  to  it  ought  to  have 
saved  him  from  the  punishment  due  only  to  a  willful  30 
offender. 

The  learned  counsel  on  the  other  side  will  not  assert 
that  there  was  war  at  Indianapolis  in  1864,  for  they 


l6a  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

have  read  "  Coke's  Institute,"  and  Judge  Grier's  opin- 
ion in  the  prize  cases,  and  of  course  they  know  it  to  be 
a  settled  rule  that  war  cannot  be  said  to  exist  where 
the  civil  courts  are  open.  They  will  not  set  up  the 
5  absurd  plea  of  necessity,  for  they  are  well  aware  that 
it  would  not  be  true  in  point  of  fact.  They  will  hardly 
take  the  ground  that  any  kind  of  necessity  could  give 
legal  validity  to  that  which  the  law  forbids. 

This,  therefore,  must  be  their  position:  That  al- 

10  though  there  was  no  war  at  the  place  where  this  com- 
mission sat,  and  no  actual  necessity  for  it,  yet  if  there 
was  a  war  anywhere  else,  to  which  the  United  States 
were  a  party,  the  technical  effect  of  such  war  was  to 
take  the  jurisdiction  away  from  the  civil  courts  and 

15  transfer  it  to  army  officers. 

GENERAL  BUTLER:  We  do  not  take  that  position. 
MR.  BLACK:  Then  they  can  take  no  ground  at  all, 
for  nothing  else  is  left.     I  do  not  wonder  to  see  them 
recoil  from  their  own  doctrine  when  its  nakedness  is 

20  held  up  to  their  eyes.  But  they  must  stand  upon  that 
or  give  up  their  cause.  They  may  not  state  their  propo- 
sition precisely  as  I  state  it;  that  is  too  plain  a  way  of 
putting  it.  But,  in  substance,  it  is  their  doctrine — 
has  been  the  doctrine  of  the  Attorney-General's  office 

25  ever  since  the  advent  of  the  present  incumbent — and 
is  the  doctrine  of  their  brief,  printed  and  filed  in  this 
case.  What  else  can  they  say?  They  will  admit  that 
the  Constitution  is  not  altogether  without  a  meaning; 
that  at  a  time  of  universal  peace  it  imposes  some  kind 

30  of  obligation  upon  those  who  swear  to  support  it. 
If  no  war  existed  they  would  not  deny  the  exclusive 
jurisdiction  of  the  civil  courts  in  criminal  cases.  How, 
then,  did  the  military  get  jurisdiction  in  Indiana? 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  SY  JURY.  163 

All  men  who  hold  the  Attorney-General's  opinion 
to  be  true  answer  the  question  I  have  put  by  saying 
that  military  jurisdiction  comes  from  the  mere  exist- 
ence of  war;  and  it  comes  in  Indiana  only  as  the  legal 
result  of  a  war  which  is  going  on  in  Mississippi,  Ten-  5 
nessee,  or  South  Carolina.  The  Constitution  is  re- 
pealed, or  its  operation  suspended,  in  one  State  be- 
cause there  is  war  in  another.  The  courts  are  open, 
the  organization  of  society  is  intact,  the  judges  are  on 
the  bench,  and  their  process  is  not  impeded;  but  their  10 
jurisdiction  is  gone.  Why?  Because,  say  our  oppo- 
nents, war  exists,  and  the  silent,  legal,  technical  opera- 
tion of  that  fact  is  to  deprive  all  American  citizens  of 
their  right  to  a  fair  trial. 

That  class  of  jurists  and  statesmen,  who  hold  that  15 
the  trial  by  jury  is  lost  to  the  citizen  during  the  ex- 
istence of  war,  carry  out  their  doctrine,  theoretically 
and  practically,  to  its  ultimate  consequences.     The 
right  of  trial  by  jury  being  gone,  all  other  rights  are 
gone  with  it;  therefore  a  man  may  be  arrested  without  20 
an  accusation,  and  kept  in  prison  during  the  pleasure 
of  his  captors;  his  papers  may  be  searched  without  a 
warrant;  his  property  may  be  confiscated  behind  his 
back,  and  he  has  no  earthly  means  of  redress.     Nay, 
an  attempt  to  get  a  just  remedy  is  construed  as  a  new  25 
crime.     He  dare  not  even  complain,  for  the  right  of 
free  speech  is  gone  with  the  rest  of  his  rights.     If  you 
sanction  that  doctrine,  what  is  to  be  the  consequence? 
I  do  not  speak  of  what  is  past  and  gone ;  but  in  case  of 
a  future  war,  what  results  will  follow  from  your  de-  30 
cision  indorsing  the  Attorney-General's  views?    They 
are  very  obvious.     At  the  instant  when  war  begins, 
our  whole  system  of  legal  government  will  tumble  into 


1 64  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

ruin,  and  if  we  are  not  all  robbed,  and  kidnaped,  and 
hanged,  and  drawn,  and  quartered,  we  will  owe  our 
immunity,  not  to  the  Constitution  and  laws,  but  to  the 
mere  mercy  or  policy  of  those  persons  who  may  then 
5  happen  to  control  the  organized  physical  force  of  the 
country. 

This  certainly  puts  us  in  a  most  precarious  con- 
dition; we  must  have  war  about  half  the  time,  do  what 
we  may  to  avoid  it.  The  President  or  Congress  can 

10  wantonly  provoke  a  war  whenever  it  suits  the  purpose 
of  either  to  do  so;  and  they  can  keep  it  going  as  long 
as  they  please,  even  after  the  actual  conflict  of  arms  is 
over.  When  Peace  wooes  them  they  can  ignore  her  ex- 
istence;  and  thus  they  can  make  war  a  chronic  condition 

15  of  the  country,  and  the  slavery  of  the  people  perpetual. 
Nay,  we  are  at  the  mercy  of  any  foreign  potentate  who 
may  envy  us  the  possession  of  those  liberties  which 
we  boast  of  so  much;  he  can  shatter  our  Constitution 
without  striking  a  single  blow  or  bringing  a  gun  to 

20  bear  upon  us.  A  simple  declaration  of  hostilities  is 
more  terrible  to  us  than  an  army  with  banners. 

To  me  this  seems  the  wildest  delusion  that  ever  took 
possession  of  a  human  brain.  If  there  be  one  princi- 
ple of  political  ethics  more  universally  acknowledged 

25  than  another,  it  is  that  war,  and  especially  civil  war, 
can  be  justified  only  when  it  is  undertaken  to  vindi- 
cate and  uphold  the  legal  and  constitutional  rights  of 
the  people;  not  to  trample  them  down.  He  who  car- 
ries on  a  system  of  wholesale  slaughter  for  any  other 

30  purpose  must  stand  without  excuse  before  God  or  man. 
In  a  time  of  war,  more  than  at  any  other  time,  public 
liberty  is  in  the  hands  of  the  public  officers.  And  she 
is  there  in  double  trust:  first,  as  they  are  citizens,  and 


THE  RIGHT   TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  165 

therefore  bound  to  defend  her  by  the  common  obliga- 
tion of  all  citizens;  and,  next,  as  they  are  her  special 
guardians — 

"  Who  should  against  her  murderers  shut  the  door, 

Not  bear  the  knife  themselves."  5 

The  opposing  argument,  when  turned  into  plain  Eng- 
lish, means  this,  and  this  only:  that  when  the  Consti- 
tution is  attacked  upon  one  side,  its  official  guardians 
may  assail  it  upon  the  other;  when  rebellion  strikes  it 
in  the  face,  they  may  take  advantage  of  the  blindness  10 
produced  by  the  blow  to  sneak  behind  it  and  stab  it 
in  the  back. 

The  convention  when  it  framed  the  Constitution, 
and  the  people  when  they  adopted  it,  could  have  had 
no  thought  like  that.  If  they  had  supposed  that  it  15 
would  operate  only  while  perfect  peace  continued,  they 
certainly  would  have  given  us  some  other  rule  to  go 
by  in  time  of  war;  they  would  not  have  left  us  to  wan- 
der about  in  a  howling  wilderness  of  anarchy,  without 
a  lamp  to  our  feet,  or  a  guide  to  our  path.  Another  20 
thing  proves  their  actual  intent  still  more  strikingly. 
They  required  that  every  man  in  any  kind  of  public 
employment,  State  or  national,  civil  or  military,  should 
swear,  without  reserve  or  qualification,  that  he  would 
support  the  Constitution.  Surely  our  ancestors  had  25 
too  much  regard  for  the  moral  and  religious  welfare 
of  their  posterity  to  impose  upon  them  an  oath  like 
that,  if  they  intended  and  expected  it  to  be  broken  half 
the  time.  The  oath  of  an  officer  to  support  the  Con- 
stitution is  as  simple  as  that  of  a  witness  to  tell  the  30 
truth  in  a  court  of  justice.  What  would  you  think  of 
a  witness  who  should  attempt  to  justify  perjury  upon 
tne  ground  that  he  had  testified  when  civil  war  was 


166  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

raging,  and  he  thought  that  by  swearing  to  a  lie  he 
might  promote  some  public  or  private  object  con- 
nected with  the  strife? 

No,  no,  the  great  men  who  made  this  country  what  it 
5  is — the  heroes  who  won  her  independence,  and  the 
statesmen  who  settled  her  institutions — had  no  such 
notions  in  their  minds.  Washington  deserved  the 
lofty  praise  bestowed  upon  him  by  the  President  of 
Congress  when  he  resigned  his  commission — that  he 

10  had  always  regarded  the  rights  of  the  civil  authority 
through  all  changes  and  through  all  disasters.  When 
his  duty  as  President  afterward  required  him  to  arm 
the  public  force  to  suppress  a  rebellion  in  Western 
Pennsylvania,  he  never  thought  that  the  Constitution 

15  was  abolished,  by  virtue  of  that  fact,  in  New  Jersey, 
or  Maryland,  or  Virginia.  It  would  have  been  a  dan- 
gerous experiment  for  an  adviser  of  his  at  that  time, 
or  at  any  time,  to  propose  that  he  should  deny  a  citi- 
zen his  right  to  be  tried  by  a  jury,  and  substitute  in 

20  place  of  it  a  trial  before  a  tribunal  composed  of  men 
elected  by  himself  from  among  his  own  creatures  and 
dependents.  You  can  well  imagine  how  that  great 
heart  would  have  swelled  with  indignation  at  the  bare 
thought  of  such  an  insulting  outrage  upon  the  liberty 

25  and  law  of  his  country. 

In  the  war  of  1812,  the  man  emphatically  called  the 
Father  of  the  Constitution  was  the  supreme  Executive 
Magistrate.  Talk  of  perilous  times!  There  was  the 
severest  trial  this  Union  ever  saw.  That  was  no  half- 

30  organized  rebellion  on  the  one  side  of  the  conflict,  to 
be  crushed  by  the  hostile  millions  and  unbounded  re- 
sources of  the  other.  The  existence  of  the  nation  was 
threatened  by  the  most  formidable  military  and  naval 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  167 

power  then  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  Every  town 
upon  the  northern  frontier,  upon  the  Atlantic  seaboard, 
and  upon  the  Gulf  coast  was  in  daily  and  hourly  dan- 
ger. The  enemy  had  penetrated  the  heart  of  Ohio. 
New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and  Virginia  were  all  of  5 
them  threatened  from  the  west  as  well  as  the  east. 
This  Capitol  was  taken,  and  burned,  and  pillaged,  and 
every  member  of  the  Federal  Administration  was  a 
fugitive  before  the  invading  army.  Meanwhile,  party 
spirit  was  breaking  out  into  actual  treason  all  over  10 
New  England.  Four  of  those  States  refused  to  fur- 
nish a  man  or  a  dollar  even  for  their  own  defense. 
Their  public  authorities  were  plotting  the  dismember- 
ment of  the  Union,  and  individuals  among  them  were 
burning  blue-lights  upon  the  coast  as  a  signal  to  the  15 
enemy's  ships.  But  in  all  this  storm  of  disaster,  with 
foreign  war  in  his  front,  and  domestic  treason  on  his 
flank,  Madison  gave  out  no  sign  that  he  would  aid  Old 
England  and  New  England  to  break  up  this  Govern- 
ment of  laws.  On  the  contrary,  he  and  all  his  sup-  20 
porters,  though  compassed  round  with  darkness  and 
with  danger,  stood  faithfully  between  the  Constitution 
and  its  enemies 

"  To  shield  it  and  save  it,  or  perish  there,  too." 

The  framers  of  the  Constitution  and  all  their  con- 25 
temporaries  died  and  were  buried;  their  children  suc- 
ceeded them  and  continued  on  the  stage  of  public 
affairs  until  they,  too, 

"  Lived  out  their  lease  of  life,  and  paid  their  breath 
To  time  and  mortal  custom  "  ;  30 

and  a  third  generation  was  already  far  on  its  way  to  the 
grave  before  this  monstrous  doctrine  was  conceived 


1 68  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

or  thought  of,  that  public  officers  all  over  the  country 
might  disregard  their  oaths  whenever  a  war  or  a  re- 
bellion was  commenced. 

Our  friends  on  the  other  side  are  quite  conscious  that 
5  when  they  deny  the  binding  obligation  of  the  Consti- 
tution they  must  put  some  other  system  of  law  in  its 
place.  Their  brief  gives  notice  that,  while  the  Consti- 
tution, and  the  acts  of  Congress,  and  Magna  Charta, 
,and  the  common  law,  and  all  the  rules  of  natural  jus- 

10  tice  shall  remain  under  foot,  they  will  try  American 
citizens  according  to  the  law  of  nations!  But  the  law 
of  nations  takes  no  notice  of  the  subject.  If  that  sys- 
tem did  contain  a  special  provision  that  a  government 
might  hang  one  of  its  own  citizens  without  a  judge 

15  or  jury,  it  would  still  be  competent  for  the  American 
people  to  say,  as  they  have  said,  that  no  such  thing 
should  ever  be  done  here.  That  is  my  answer  to  the 
law  of  nations. 

But  then  they  tell  us  that  the  laws  of  war  must  be 

20  treated  as  paramount.  Here  they  become  mysterious. 
Do  they  mean  that  code  of  public  law  which  defines 
the  duties  of  two  belligerent  parties  to  one  another, 
and  regulates  the  intercourse  of  neutrals  with  both? 
If  yes,  then  it  is  simply  a  recurrence  to  the  law  of 

25  nations,  which  has  nothing  on  earth  to  do  with  the 
subject.  Do  they  mean  that  portion  of  our  municipal 
code  which  defines  our  duties  to  the  Government  in 
war  as  well  as  in  peace?  Then  they  are  speaking  of 
the  Constitution  and  laws,  which  declare  in  plain  words 

30  that  the  Government  owes  every  citizen  a  fair  legal  trial, 
as  much  as  the  citizen  owes  obedience  to  the  Govern- 
ment. They  are  in  search  of  an  argument  under  diffi- 
culties. When  they  appeal  to  international  law,  it  is 


THE  RIGHT   TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  169 

silent;  and  when  they  interrogate  the  law  of  the  land, 
the  answer  is  an  unequivocal  contradiction  of  their 
whole  theory. 

The  Attorney-General  tells  us  that  all  persons  whom 
he  and  his  associates  choose  to  denounce  for  giving  aid  5 
to  the  rebellion  are  to  be  treated  as  being  themselves 
a  part  of  the  rebellion — they  are  public  enemies,  and 
therefore  they  may  be  punished  without  being  found 
guilty  by  a  competent  court  or  a  jury.  This  conven- 
ient rule  would  outlaw  every  citizen  the  moment  he  is  10 
charged  with  a  political  offense.  But  political  offend- 
ers are  precisely  the  class  of  persons  who  most  need 
the  protection  of  a  court  and  jury,  for  the  prosecu- 
tions against  them  are  most  likely  to  be  unfounded 
both  in  fact  and  in  law.  Whether  innocent  or  guilty,  15 
to  accuse  is  to  convict  them  before  the  ignorant  and 
bigoted  men  who  generally  sit  in  military  courts.  But 
this  court  decided  in  the  prize  cases  that  all  who  live 
in  the  enemy's  territory  are  public  enemies,  without 
regard  to  their  personal  sentiments  or  conduct ;  and  20 
the  converse  of  the  proposition  is  equally  true — that 
all  who  reside  inside  of  our  own  territory  are  to  be 
treated  as  under  the  protection  of  the  law.  If  they 
help  the  enemy  they  are  criminals,  but  they  cannot  be 
punished  without  legal  conviction.  25 

You  have  heard  much  (and  you  will  hear  more  very 
soon)  concerning  the  natural  and  inherent  right  of  the 
Government  to  defend  itself  without  regard  to  law. 
This  is  wholly  fallacious.  In  a  despotism  the  auto- 
crat is  unrestricted  in  the  means  he  may  use  for  the  30 
defense  of  his  authority  against  the  opposition  of  his 
own  subjects  or  others;  and  that  is  precisely  what 
makes  him  a  despot.  But  in  a  limited  monarchy  the 


I ?o  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

prince  must  confine  himself  to  a  legal  defense  of  his 
government.  If  he  goes  beyond  that,  and  commits 
aggressions  on  the  rights  of  the  people,  he  breaks  the 
social  compact,  releases  his  subjects  from  all  their 
5  obligations  to  him,  renders  himself  liable  to  be  hurled 
from  his  throne,  and  dragged  to  the  block  or  driven 
into  exile.  This  principle  was  sternly  enforced  in  the 
cases  of  Charles  I.  and  James  II.,  and  we  have  it  an- 
nounced on  the  highest  official  authority  here  that  the 

10  Queen  of  England  cannot  ring  a  little  bell  on  her  table 
and  cause  a  man  by  her  arbitrary  order  to  be  arrested 
under  any  pretense  whatever.  If  that  be  true  there, 
how  much  more  true  must  it  be  here,  where  we  have 
no  personal  sovereign,  and  where  our  only  Govern- 

15  ment  is  the  Constitution  and  laws.  A  violation  of 
law,  on  pretense  of  saving  such  a  Government  as  ours, 
is  not  self-preservation,  but  suicide. 

Salus  populi  suprema  lex.     Observe  it  is  not  solus 
regis;  the  safety  of  the  people,  not  the  safety  of  the 

20  ruler,  is  the  supreme  law.  When  those  who  hold  the 
authority  of  the  Government  in  their  hands  behave 
in  such  manner  as  to  put  the  liberties  and  rights  of 
the  people  in  jeopardy,  the  people  may  rise  against 
them  and  overthrow  them  without  regard  to  that  law 

25  which  requires  obedience  to  them.  The  maxim  is 
revolutionary,  and  expresses  simply  the  right  to  resist 
tyranny  without  regard  to  prescribed  forms.  It  can 
never  be  used  to  stretch  the  powers  of  government 
against  the  people. 

30  If  this  Government  of  ours  has  no  power  to  defend 
itself  without  violating  its  own  laws,  it  carries  the  seeds 
of  destruction  in  its  own  bosom;  it  is  a  poor,  weak, 
blind,  staggering  thing,  and  the  sooner  it  tumbles  over 


THE  RIGHT  TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  17* 

the  better.  But  it  has  a  most  efficient  legal  mode  of 
protecting  itself  against  all  possible  danger.  It  is 
clothed  from  head  to  foot  in  a  complete  panoply  of 
defensive  armor.  What  are  the  perils  which  may 
threaten  its  existence?  I  am  not  able  at  this  moment  5 
to  think  of  more  than  these  which  I  am  about  to 
mention:  foreign  invasion,  domestic  insurrection, 
mutiny  in  the  Army  and  Navy,  corruption  in  the 
civil  administration,  and  last,  but  not  least,  criminal 
violations  of  its  laws  committed  by  individuals  among  10 
the  body  of  the  people.  Have  we  not  a  legal  mode  of 
defense  against  all  these?  Yes:  military  force  repels 
invasion  and  suppresses  insurrection;  you  preserve 
discipline  in  the  Army  and  Navy  by  means  of  courts- 
martial;  you  preserve  the  purity  of  the  civil  adminis- 15 
tration  by  impeaching  dishonest  magistrates;  and 
crimes  are  prevented  and  punished  by  the  regular 
judicial  authorities.  You  are  not  merely  compelled 
to  use  these  weapons  against  your  enemies,  because 
they  and  they  only  are  justified  by  the  law:  you  ought  20 
to  use  them  because  they  are  more  efficient  than  any 
other,  and  less  liable  to  be  abused. 

There  is  another  view  of  the  subject  which  settles 
all  controversy  about  it.  No  human  being  in  this 
country  can  exercise  any  kind  of  public  authority  25 
which  is  not  conferred  by  law;  and  under  the  United 
States  it  must  be  given  by  the  express  words  of  a 
written  statute.  Whatever  is  not  so  given  is  withheld, 
and  the  exercise  of  it  is  positively  prohibited.  Courts- 
martial  in  the  Army  and  Navy  are  authorized ;  they  30 
are  legal  institutions;  their  jurisdiction  is  limited,  and 
their  whole  code  of  procedure  is  regulated  by  act  of 
Congress.  Upon  the  civil  courts  all  the  jurisdiction 


172  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

they  have  or  can  have  is  bestowed  by  law;  and  if  one 
of  them  goes  beyond  what  is  written,  its  action  is 
ultra  vires  and  void.  But  a  military  commission  is  not 
a  court-martial,  and  it  is  not  a  civil  court.  It  is  not 

5  governed  by  the  law  which  is  made  for  either,  and  has 
no  law  of  its  own.  Within  the  last  five  years  we  have 
seen,  for  the  first  time,  self-constituted  tribunals  not 
only  assuming  power  which  the  law  did  not  give  them, 
but  thrusting  aside  the  regular  courts  to  which  the 

10  power  was  exclusively  given. 

What  is  the  consequence?  This  terrible  authority 
is  wholly  undefined,  and  its  exercise  is  without  any 
legal  control.  Undelegated  power  is  always  un- 
limited. The  field  that  lies  outside  of  the  Constitution 

15  and  laws  has  no  boundary.  Thierry,  the  French  his- 
torian of  England,  says  that  when  the  crown  and 
scepter  were  offered  to  Cromwell  he  hesitated  for 
several  days,  and  answered,  "  Do  not  make  me  a  king; 
for  then  my  hands  will  be  tied  up  by  the  laws  which 

20  define  the  duties  of  that  office;  but  make  me  protector 
of  the  Commonwealth,  and  I  can  do  what  I  please; 
no  statute  restraining  and  limiting  the  royal  preroga- 
tive will  apply  to  me."  So  these  commissions  have 
no  legal  origin  and  no  legal  name  by  which  they  are 

25  known  among  the  children  of  men;  no  law  applies  to 
them;  and  they  exercise  all  power  for  the  paradoxical 
reason  that  none  belongs  to  them  rightfully. 

Ask  the  Attorney-General  what  rules  apply  to  mili- 
tary commissions  in  the  exercise  of  their  assumed  au- 

30  thority  over  civilians.  Come,  Mr.  Attorney,  "  gird  up 
thy  loins  now  like  a  man;  I  will  demand  of  thee,  and 
thou  shalt  declare  unto  me  if  thou  hast  understand- 
ing." How  is  a  military  commission  organized? 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  173 

What  shall  be  the  number  and  rank  of  its  members? 
What  offenses  come  within  its  jurisdiction?  What  is 
its  code  of  procedure?  How  shall  witnesses  be  com- 
pelled to  attend  it?  Is  it  perjury  for  a  witness  to 
swear  falsely?  What  is  the  function  of  the  Judge-  5 
Advocate?  Does  he  tell  the  members  how  they  must 
find,  or  does  he  only  persuade  them  to  convict?  Is  he 
the  agent  of  the  Government,  to  command  them  what 
evidence  they  shall  admit  and  what  sentence  they  shall 
pronounce;  or  does  he  always  carry  his  point,  right  or  10 
wrong,  by  the  mere  force  of  eloquence  and  ingenuity? 
What  is  the  nature  of  their  punishment?  May  they 
confiscate  property  and  levy  fines  as  well  as  imprison 
and  kill?  In  addition  to  strangling  their  victim,  may 
they  also  deny  him  the  last  consolations  of  religion,  15 
and  refuse  his  family  the  melancholy  privilege  of  giv- 
ing him  a  decent  grave? 

To  none  of  these  questions  can  the  Attorney-Gen- 
eral make  a  reply,  for  there  is  no  law  on  the  subject. 
He  will  not  attempt  to  "  darken  counsel  by  words  20 
without  knowledge,"  and  therefore,  like  Job,  he  can 
only  lay  his  hand  upon  his  mouth  and  keep  silence. 

The  power  exercised  through  those  military  com- 
missions is  not  only  unregulated  by  law,  but  it  is  in- 
capable of  being  so  regulated.  What  is  it  that  you  25 
claim,  Mr.  Attorney?  I  will  give  you  a  definition,  the 
correctness  of  which  you  will  not  attempt  to  gainsay. 
You  assert  the  right  of  the  Executive  Government, 
without  the  intervention  of  the  judiciary,  to  capture, 
imprison,  and  kill  any  person  to  whom  that  Govern-  30 
ment  or  its  paid  dependents  may  choose  to  impute  an 
offense.  This,  in  its  very  essence,  is  despotic  and  law- 
less. It  is  never  claimed  or  tolerated  except  by  those 


174  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

governments  which  deny  the  restraints  of  all  law.  It 
has  been  exercised  by  the  great  and  small  oppressors 
of  mankind  ever  since  the  days  of  Nimrod.  It 
operates  in  different  ways;  the  tools  it  uses  are  not 
5  always  the  same ;  it  hides  its  hideous  features  under 
many  disguises;  it  assumes  every  variety  of  form; 

"  It  can  change  shapes  with  Proteus  for  advantages, 
And  set  the  murderous  Machiavel  to  school." 

But  in  all  its  mutations  of  outward  appearance  it  is 

jo  still  identical  in  principle,  object,  and  origin.  It  is 
always  the  same  great  engine  of  despotism  which 
Hamilton  described  it  to  be. 

Under  the  old  French  monarchy  the  favorite  fash- 
ion of  it  was  a  lettre  de  cachet,  signed  by  the  king,  and 

15  this  would  consign  the  party  to  a  loathsome  dungeon 
until  he  died,  forgotten  by  all  the  world.  An  imperial 
ukase  will  answer  the  same  purpose  in  Russia.  The 
most  faithful  subject  of  that  amiable  autocracy  may 
lie  down  in  the  evening  to  dream  of  his  future  pros- 

20  perity,  and  before  daybreak  he  will  find  himself  be- 
tween two  dragoons  on  his  way  to  the  mines  of  Si- 
beria. In  Turkey  the  verbal  order  of  the  Sultan  or 
any  of  his  powerful  favorites  will  cause  a  man  to  be 
tied  up  in  a  sack  and  cast  into  the  Bosphorus.  Nero 

25  accused  Peter  and  Paul  of  spreading  a  "  pestilent 
superstition,"  which  they  called  the  Gospel.  He  heard 
their  defense  in  person,  and  sent  them  to  the  cross. 
Afterward  he  tried  the  whole  Christian  Church  in  one 
body,  on  a  charge  of  setting  fire  to  the  city,  and  he 

30  convicted  them,  though  he  knew  not  only  that  they 
were  innocent,  but  that  he  himself  had  committed  the 
crime.  The  judgment  was  followed  by  instant  exe- 


THE  RIGHT  TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  175 

cution;  he  let  loose  the  Praetorian  guards  upon  men, 
women,  and  children,  to  drown,  butcher,  and  burn 
them.  Herod  saw  fit,  for  good  political  reasons, 
closely  affecting  the  permanence  of  his  reign  in  Judea, 
to  punish  certain  possible  traitors  in  Bethlehem  by  5 
anticipation.  This  required  the  death  of  all  the  chil- 
dren in  that  city  under  two  years  of  age.  He  issued 
his  "  general  order  " ;  and  his  provost-marshal  car- 
ried it  out  with  so  much  alacrity  and  zeal  that  in  one 
day  the  whole  land  was  filled  with  mourning  and  10 
lamentation. 

Macbeth  understood  the  whole  philosophy  of  the 
subject.  He  was  an  unlimited  monarch.  His  power 
to  punish  for  any  offense  or  for  no  offense  at  all  was 
as  broad  as  that  which  the  Attorney-General  claims  15 
for  himself  and  his  brother  officers  under  the  United 
States.  But  he  was  more  cautious  how  he  used  it. 
He  had  a  dangerous  rival,  from  whom  he  apprehended 
the  most  serious  peril  to  the  "  life  of  his  government." 
The  necessity  to  get  rid  of  him  was  plain  enough,  but  20 
he  could  not  afford  to  shock  the  moral  sense  of  the 
world  by  pleading  political  necessity  for  a  murder. 
He  must 

"  Mask  the  business  from  the  common  eye." 

Accordingly  he  sent  for  two  enterprising  gentlemen  25 
whom  he  took  into  his  service  upon  liberal   pay — 
"  made  love  to  their  assistance  " — and  got  them  to 
deal  with  the  accused  party.     He  acted  as  his  own 
Judge-Advocate.     He  made  a  most  elegant  and  stir- 
ring speech  to  persuade  his  agents  that  Banquo  was  30 
their  oppressor,  and  had  "  held  them  so  under  for- 
tune "  that  he  ought  to  die  for  that  alone.     When 


176  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK, 

they  agreed  that  he  was  their  enemy,  then  said  the 
king: 

"  So  is  he  mine,  and  though  I  could 

With  barefaced  power  sweep  him  from  my  sight 
5  And  bid  my  will  avouch  it  ;  yet  I  must  not, 

For  certain  friends,  who  are  both  his  and  mine, 
Whose  loves  I  may  not  drop." 

For  these,  and  "  many  weighty  reasons  "  besides,  he 
thought  it  best  to  commit  the  execution  of  his  design 

10  to  a  subordinate  agency.  The  commission  thus 
organized  in  Banquo's  case  sat  upon  him  that  very 
night,  at  a  convenient  place  beside  the  road  where  it 
was  known  he  would  be  traveling;  and  they  did  pre- 
cisely what  the  Attorney-General  says  the  military 

15  officers  may  do  in  this  country — they  took  and  killed 
him,  because  their  employer  at  the  head  of  the  govern- 
ment wanted  it  done,  and  paid  them  for  doing  it  out 
of  the  public  treasury. 

But  of  all  the  persons  that  ever  wielded  this  kind  o£ 

20  power,  the  one  who  went  most  directly  to  the  purpose 
and  object  of  it  was  Lola  Montez.  She  reduced  it  to 
the  elementary  principle.  In  1848,  when  she  was 
minister  and  mistress  to  the  King  of  Bavaria,  she  dic- 
tated all  the  measures  of  the  Government.  The  times 

25  were  troublesome.  All  over  Germany  the  spirit  of 
rebellion  was  rising;  everywhere  the  people  wanted  to 
see  a  first-class  revolution,  like  that  which  had  just 
exploded  in  France.  Many  persons  in  Bavaria  dis- 
liked to  be  governed  so  absolutely  by  a  lady  of  the 

30  character  which  Lola  Montez  bore,  and  some  of  them 
were  rash  enough  to  say  so.  Of  course  that  was  trea- 
son, and  she  went  about  to  punish  it  in  the  simplest  of 
all  possible  ways.  She  bought  herself  a  pack  of  Eng- 


THE  RIGHT   TO   TRIAL  BY  JURY.  177 

lish  bulldogs,  trained  to  tear  the  flesh,  and  mangle  the 
limbs,  and  lap  the  life-blood:  and  with  these  dogs  at 
her  heels,  she  marched  up  and  down  the  streets  of 
Munich  with  a  most  majestic  tread,  and  with  a  sense 
of  power  which  any  Judge- Advocate  in  America  might  5 
envy.  When  she  saw  any  person  whom  she  chose  to 
denounce  for  "  thwarting  the  government,"  or  "  using 
disloyal  language,"  her  obedient  followers  needed  but 
a  sign  to  make  them  spring  at  the  throat  of  their  vic- 
tim. It  gives  me  unspeakable  pleasure  to  tell  you  the  10 
sequel.  The  people  rose  in  their  strength,  smashed 
down  the  whole  machinery  of  oppression,  and  drove 
out  into  uttermost  shame  king,  strumpet,  dogs,  and 
all.  From  that  time  to  this  neither  man,  woman,  nor 
beast,  has  dared  to  worry  or  kill  the. people  of  Bavaria.  15 

All  these  are  but  so  many  different  ways  of  using 
the  arbitrary  power  to  punish.  The  variety  is  merely 
in  the  means  which  a  tyrannical  government  takes  to 
destroy  those  whom  it  is  bound  to  protect.  Every- 
where it  is  but  another  construction,  on  the  same  20 
principle,  of  that  remorseless  machine  by  wrhich  des- 
potism wreaks  its  vengeance  on  those  who  offend  it. 
In  a  civilized  country  it  nearly  always  uses  the  mili- 
tary force,  because  that  is  the  sharpest,  and  surest,  as 
well  as  the  best-looking  instrument  that  can  be  found  25 
for  such  a  purpose.  But  in  none  of  its  forms  can  it 
be  introduced  into  this  country;  we  have  no  room  for 
it ;  the  ground  here  is  all  preoccupied  by  legal  and  free 
institutions. 

Between  the  officers  who  have  a  power  like  this,  and  30 
the  people  who  are  liable  to  become  its  victims,  there 
can  be  no  relation  except  that  of  master  and  slave.    The 
master  may  be  kind,  and  the  slave  may  be  contented 


1?8  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

in  his  bondage;  but  the  man  who  can  take  your  life, 
or  restrain  your  liberty,  or  despoil  you  of  your  prop- 
erty at  his  discretion,  either  with  his  own  hands  or  by 
means  of  a  hired  overseer,  owns  you  and  he  can  force 
5  you  to  serve  him.  All  you  are  and  all  you  have,  in- 
cluding your  wives  and  children,  are  his  property! 

If  my  learned  and  very  good  friend,  the  Attorney- 
General,  had  this  right  of  domination  over  me,  I 
should  not  be  very  much  frightened,  for  I  should  ex- 

10  pect  him  to  use  it  as  moderately  as  any  man  in  all  the 
world ;  but  still  I  should  feel  the  necessity  of  being  very 
discreet.  He  might  change  in  a  short  time.  The 
thirst  for  blood  is  an  appetite  which  grows  by  what  it 
feeds  upon.  We  cannot  know  him  by  present  ap- 

15  pearances.  Robespierre  resigned  a  country  judgeship 
in  early  life  because  he  was  too  tender-hearted  to  pro- 
nounce sentence  of  death  upon  a  convicted  criminal. 
Caligula  passed  for  a  most  amiable  young  gentleman 
before  he  was  clothed  with  the  imperial  purple,  and 

ao  for  about  eight  months  afterward.  It  was  Trajan,  I 
think,  who  said  that  absolute  power  would  convert  any 
man  into  a  wild  beast,  whatever  was  the  original  be- 
nevolence of  his  nature.  If  you  decide  that  the 
Attorney-General  holds  in  his  own  hands,  or  shares 

25  with  others,  the  power  of  life  and  death  over  us  all, 
I  mean  to  be  very  cautious  in  my  intercourse  with  him ; 
and  I  warn  you,  the  judges  whom  I  am  now  address- 
ing, to  do  likewise.  Trust  not  to  the  gentleness  and 
kindness  which  have  always  marked  his  behavior  here- 

30  tofore.  Keep  your  distance ;  be  careful  how  you 
approach  him;  for  you  know  not  at  what  moment  or 
by  what  a  trifle  you  may  rouse  the  sleeping  tiger.  Re- 
member the  injunction  of  Scripture:  "  Go  not  near  to 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  179 

the  man  who  hath  power  to  kill ;  and  if  thou  come  unto 
him,  see  that  thou  make  no  fault,  lest  he  take  away  thy 
life  presently;  for  thou  goest  among  snares  and  walk- 
est  upon  the  battlements  of  the  city." 

The  right  of  the  Executive  Government  to  kill  and  5 
imprison  citizens  for  political  offenses  has  not  been 
practically  claimed  in  this  country,  except  in  cases 
where  commissioned  officers  of  the  army  were  the  in- 
struments used.     Why  should  it  be  confined  to  them? 
Why  should  not  naval  officers  be  permitted  to  share  10 
in  it?     What  is  the  reason  that  common  soldiers  and 
seamen  are  excluded  from  all  participation  in  the  busi- 
ness?    No  law  has  bestowed  the  right  upon  army 
officers  more  than  upon  other  persons.     If  men  are  to 
be  hung  up  without  that  legal  trial  which  the  Consti-  15 
tution  guarantees  to  them,  why  not  employ  commis- 
sions of  clergymen,  merchants,  manufacturers,  horse- 
dealers,  butchers,  or  drovers,  to  do  it?     It  will  not  be 
pretended  that  military  men  are  better  qualified  to 
decide  questions  of  fact  or  law  than  other  classes  of  20 
people;  for  it  is  known,  on  the  contrary,  that  they  are, 
as  a  general  rule,  least  of  all  fitted  to  perform  the  duties 
that  belong  to  a  judge. 

The   Attorney-General    thinks   that    a    proceeding 
which  takes  away  the  lives  of  citizens  without  a  con-  25 
stitutional  trial  is  a  most  merciful  dispensation.     His 
idea  of  humanity  as  well  as  law  is  embodied  in  the 
bureau  of  military  justice,  with  all  its  dark  and  bloody 
machinery.     For  that  strange  opinion  he  gives  this 
curious  reason:  that  the  duty  of  the  commander-in- 30 
chief  is  to  kill,  and  unless  he  has  this  bureau  and  these 
commissions  he  must  "butcher"  indiscriminately,  with- 
out mercy  or  justice.    I  admit  that  if  the  commander- 


l8o  JEREMIAH  S.   BLACK. 

in-chief  or  any  other  officer  of  the  Government  has 
the  power  of  an  Asiatic  king,  to  butcher  the  people  at 
pleasure,  he  ought  to  have  somebody  to  aid  him  in 
selecting  his  victims,  as  well  as  to  do  the  rough  work 
5  of  strangling  and  shooting.  But  if  my  learned  friend 
will  only  condescend  to  cast  an  eye  upon  the  Consti- 
tution, he  will  see  at  once  that  all  the  executive  and 
military  officers  are  completely  relieved  by  the  pro- 
vision that  the  life  of  a  citizen  shall  not  be  taken  at 

10  all  until  after  legal  conviction  by  a  court  and  jury. 

You  cannot  help  but  see  that  military  commissions, 
if  suffered  to  go  on,  will  be  used  for  most  pernicious 
purposes.  I  have  criticised  none  of  their  past  pro- 
ceedings, nor  made  any  allusion  to  their  history  in  the 

15  last  five  years.  But  what  can  be  the  meaning  of  this 
effort  to  maintain  them  among  us?  Certainly  not  to 
punish  actual  guilt.  All  the  ends  of  true  justice  are  at- 
tained by  the  prompt,  speedy,  impartial  trial  which  the 
courts  are  bound  to  give.  Is  there  any  danger  that 

20  crime  will  be  winked  upon  by  the  judges?  Does  any- 
body pretend  that  courts  and  juries  have  less  ability  to 
decide  upon  facts  and  law  than  the  men  who  sit  in 
military  tribunals?  The  counsel  in  this  cause  will  not 
insult  you  by  even  hinting  such  an  opinion.  What 

25  righteous  or  just  purpose,  then,  can  they  serve? 
None,  whatever. 

But  while  they  are  utterly  powerless  to  do  even  a 
shadow  of  good,  they  will  be  omnipotent  to  trample 
upon  innocence,  to  gag  the  truth,  to  silence  patriotism, 

30  and  crush  the  liberties  of  the  country.  They  will  al- 
ways be  organized  to  convict,  and  the  conviction  will 
follow  the  accusation  as  surely  as  night  follows  the  day. 
The  Government,  of  course,  will  accuse  none  before 


THE  RIGHT   TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  181 

such  a  commission  except  those  whom  it  predeter- 
mines to  ruin  and  destroy.  The  accuser  can  choose 
the  judges,  and  will  certainly  select  those  who  are 
known  to  be  the  most  ignorant,  the  most  unprincipled, 
and  the  most  ready  to  do  whatever  may  please  the  5 
power  which  gives  them  pay,  promotion,  and  plun- 
der. The  willing  witness  can  be  found  as  easily  as 
the  superserviceable  judge.  The  treacherous  spy,  and 
the  base  informer — those  loathsome  wretches  who  do 
their  lying  by  the  job — will  stock  such  a  market  with  10 
abundant  perjury,  for  the  authorities  that  employ 
them  will  be  bound  to  protect  as  well  as  reward  them. 
A  corrupt  and  tyrannical  government,  with  such  an 
engine  at  its  command,  will  shock  the  world  with  the 
enormity  of  its  crimes.  Plied  as  it  may  be  by  the  arts  15 
of  a  malignant  priesthood,  and  urged  on  by  the  mad- 
ness of  a  raving  crowd,  it  will  be  worse  than  the  popish 
plot,  or  the  French  revolution — it  will  be  a  combi- 
nation of  both,  with  Fouquier-Tinville  on  the  bench, 
and  Titus  Gates  in  the  witness'  box.  You  can  save  us  20 
from  this  horrible  fate.  You  alone  can  "  deliver  us 
from  the  body  of  this  death."  To  that  fearful  extent 
is  the  destiny  of  this  nation  in  your  hands. 


DEMONSTRATIVE  ORATORY. 

THE    EULOGY. 
WENDELL   PHILLIPS. 

Born  1811.     Died  1884. 
DANIEL   O'CONNELL. 

[Prefacing  this  oration,  in  the  second  volume  of  Mr.  Phillips' 
Speeches,  Lectures,  and  Addresses,  is  the  following  explanatory  note  : 
"  On  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  Daniel  O'Connell, 
August  6,  1875,  a  celebration  was  held  in  Music  Hall,  Boston.  Mr. 
Phillips  was  the  orator  of  the  occasion.  No  subject  could  have  been 
more  congenial,  for  no  statesman  of  his  own  day  had  more  deeply 
impressed  Mr.  Phillips  than  O'Connell,  and  the  name  of  the  Irish 
agitator  was  often  on  the  American  agitator's  lips.  The  oration  was 
often  repeated  and  takes  rank  with  the  orator's  masterpieces." 

The  oration  is  here  printed  from  the  volume  mentioned  above, 
with  the  permission  of  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Lee  and  Shepard.] 

A  hundred  years  ago  to-day  Daniel  O'Connell  was 
born.  The  Irish  race,  wherever  scattered  over  the 
globe,  assembles  to-night  to  pay  fitting  tribute  to  his 
memory — one  of  the  most  eloquent  men,  one  of  the 
5  most  devoted  patriots,  and  the  most  successful  states- 
man which  that  race  has  given  to  history.  We  of 
other  races  may  well  join  you  in  that  tribute,  since  the 
cause  of  constitutional  government  owes  more  to 
O'Connell  than  to  any  other  political  leader  of  the  last 
10  two  centuries.  The  English-speaking  race,  to  find  his 
equal  among  statesmen,  must  pass  by  Chatham  and 

182 


DANIEL  &  CONN  ELL.  183 

Walpole,  and  go  back  to  Oliver  Cromwell,  or  the 
able  men  who  held  up  the  throne  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
If  to  put  the  civil  and  social  elements  of  your  day  into 
successful  action,  and  plant  the  seeds  of  continued 
strength  and  progress  for  coming  times — if  this  is  to  5 
be  a  statesman,  then  most  emphatically  was  O'Connell 
one.  To  exert  this  control,  and  secure  this  progress, 
while  and  because  ample  means  lie  ready  for  use  under 
your  hand,  does  not  rob  Walpole  and  Colbert,  Chat- 
ham and  Richelieu,  of  their  title  to  be  considered  10 
statesmen.  To  do  it,  as  Martin  Luther  did,  when  one 
must  ingeniously  discover  or  invent  his  tools,  and 
while  the  mightiest  forces  that  influence  human 
affairs  are  arrayed  against  him,  that  is  what  ranks 
O'Connell  with  the  few  masterly  statesmen  the  Eng-  15 
lish-speaking  race  has  ever  had.  When  Napoleon's 
soldiers  bore  the  negro  chief  Toussaint  L'Ouverture 
into  exile,  he  said,  pointing  back  to  San  Domingo, 
"  You  think  you  have  rooted  up  the  tree  of  liberty, 
but  I  am  only  a  branch.  I  have  planted  the  tree  itself  20 
so  deep  that  ages  will  never  root  it  up."  And  what- 
ever may  be  said  of  the  social  or  industrial  condition 
of  Hayti  during  the  last  seventy  years,  its  nationality 
has  never  been  successfully  assailed. 

O'Connell  is  the  only   Irishman  who  can  say  as  25 
much  of  Ireland.     From  the  peace  of  Utrecht,  1713, 
till  the  fall  of  Napoleon,  Great  Britain  was  the  lead- 
ing state  in  Europe;  while  Ireland,  a  comparatively 
insignificant  island,  lay  at  its  feet.     She  weighed  next 
to  nothing  in  the  scale  of  British  politics.     The  Con-  30 
tinent  pitied  and  England  despised  her.     O'Connell 
found  her  a  mass  of  quarreling  races  and  sects,  di- 
vided,   dispirited,    broken-hearted,    and    servile.     He 


1 84  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

made  her  a  nation  whose  first  word  broke  in  pieces  the 
iron  obstinacy  of  Wellington,  tossed  Peel  from  the 
Cabinet,  and  gave  the  government  to  the  Whigs; 
whose  colossal  figure,  like  the  helmet  in  Walpole's 

5  romance,  has  filled  the  political  sky  ever  since;  whose 
generous  aid  thrown  into  the  scale  of  the  three  great 
British  reforms, — the  ballot,  the  corn-laws,  and  sla- 
very,— secured  their  success;  a  nation  whose  contin- 
ual discontent  has  dragged  Great  Britain  down  to  be 

10  a  second-rate  power  on  the  chess-board  of  Europe.  I 
know  other  causes  have  helped  in  producing  this  re- 
sult, but  the  nationality  which  O'Connell  created  has 
been  the  main  cause  of  this  change  in  England's  im- 
portance. Dean  Swift,  Molyneux,  and  Henry  Flood 

15  thrust  Ireland  for  a  moment  into  the  arena  of  British 
politics,  a  sturdy  suppliant  clamoring  for  justice;  and 
Grattan  held  her  there  an  equal,  and,  as  he  thought, 
a  nation,  for  a  few  years.  But  the  unscrupulous  hand 
of  William  Pitt  brushed  away  in  an  hour  all  Grattan's 

20  works.  Well  might  he  say  of  the  Irish  Parliament 
which  he  brought  to  life,  "  I  sat  by  its  cradle,  I  fol- 
lowed its  hearse";  since  after  that  infamous  union, 
which  Byron  called  a  "  union  of  the  shark  with  its 
prey,"  Ireland  sank  back,  plundered  and  helpless. 

25  O'Connell  lifted  her  to  a  fixed  and  permanent  place 
in  English  affairs — no  suppliant,  but  a  conqueror  dic- 
tating her  terms. 

This  is  the  proper  standpoint  from  which  to  look 
at  O'Connell's  work.     This  is  the  consideration  that 

30  ranks  him,  not  with  founders  of  states,  like  Alexander, 
Caesar,  Bismarck,  Napoleon,  and  William  the  Silent, 
but  with  men  who,  without  arms,  by  force  of  reason, 
have  revolutionized  their  times — with  Luther,  Jeffer- 


DANIEL  ff  CON  NELL.  185 

son,  Mazzini,  Samuel  Adams,  Garrison,  and  Franklin. 
I  know  some  men  will  sneer  at  this  claim — those  who 
have  never  looked  at  him  except  through  the  spectacles 
of  English  critics,  who  despised  him  as  an  Irishman 
and  a  Catholic,  until  they  came  to  hate  him  as  a  con-  5 
queror.  As  Grattan  said  of  Kirwan,  "  The  curse  of 
Swift  was  upon  him,  to  have  been  born  an  Irishman 
and  a  man  of  genius,  and  to  have  used  his  gifts  for  his 
country's  good."  Mark  what  measure  of  success  at- 
tended the  able  men  who  preceded  him,  in  circum-  10 
stances  as  favorable  as  his,  perhaps  even  better;  then 
measure  him  by  comparison. 

An  island  soaked  with  the  blood  of  countless  re- 
bellions; oppression  such  as  would  turn  cowards  into 
heroes;  a  race  whose  disciplined  valor  had  been  proved  15 
on  almost  every  battlefield  in  Europe,  and  whose 
reckless  daring  lifted  it,  any  time,  in  arms  against 
England,  with  hope  or  without — what  inspired  them? 
Devotion,  eloquence,  and  patriotism  seldom  paralleled 
in  history.  Who  led  them?  Dean  Swift,  according  20 
to  Addison,  "  the  greatest  genius  of  his  age,"  called 
by  Pope  "  the  incomparable,"  a  man  fertile  in  re- 
sources, of  stubborn  courage  and  tireless  energy, 
master  of  an  English  style  unequaled,  perhaps,  for  its 
purpose  then  or  since,  a  man  who  had  twice  faced  25 
England  in  her  angriest  mood,  and  by  that  masterly 
pen  subdued  her  to  his  will;  Henry  Flood,  eloquent 
even  for  an  Irishman,  and  sagacious  as  he  was  elo- 
quent— the  eclipse  of  that  brilliant  life  one  of  the  sad- 
dest pictures  in  Irish  biography;  Grattan,  with  all  the  30 
courage,  and  more  than  the  eloquence,  of  his  race,  a 
statesman's  eye  quick  to  see  every  advantage,  bound- 
less devotion,  unspotted  integrity,  recognized  as  an 


1 86  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

equal  by  the  world's  leaders,  and  welcomed  by  Fox 
to  the  House  of  Commons  as  the  "  Demosthenes  of 
Ireland  ";  Emmet  in  the  field,  Sheridan  in  the  senate, 
Curran  at  the  bar;  and,  above  all,  Edmund  Burke, 
5  whose  name  makes  eulogy  superfluous,  more  than 
Cicero  in  the  senate,  almost  Plato  in  the  academy. 
All  these  gave  their  lives  to  Ireland;  and  when  the 
present  century  opened,  where  was  she?  Sold  like  a 
slave  in  the  market  place  by  her  perjured  master, 

10  William  Pitt. 

It  was  then  that  O'Connell  flung  himself  into  the 
struggle,  gave  fifty  years  to  the  service  of  his  country; 
and  where  is  she  to-day?  Not  only  redeemed,  but  her 
independence  put  beyond  doubt  or  peril.  Grattan  and 

15  his  predecessors  could  get  no  guaranties  for  what 
rights  they  gained.  In  that  sagacious,  watchful,  and 
almost  omnipotent  public  opinion,  which  O'Connell 
created,  is  an  all-sufficient  guaranty  of  Ireland's  future. 
Look  at  her!  almost  every  shackle  has  fallen  from  her 

20  limbs ;  all  that  human  wisdom  has  as  yet  devised  to 
remedy  the  evils  of  bigotry  and  misrule  has  been  done. 
O'Connell  found  Ireland  a  "  hissing  and  a  byword  " 
in  Edinburgh  and  London.  He  made  her  the  pivot  of 
British  politics;  she  rules  them,  directly  or  indirectly, 

25  with  as  absolute  a  sway  as  the  slave  question  did  the 
United  States  from  1850  to  1865.  Look  into  Earl 
Russell's  book,  and  the  history  of  the  Reform  Bill  of 
1832,  and  see  with  how  much  truth  it  may  be  claimed 
that  O'Connell  and  his  fellows  gave  Englishmen  the 

30  ballot  under  that  act.  It  is  by  no  means  certain  that 
the  corn-laws  could  have  been  abolished  without  their 
aid.  In  the  Anti-slavery  struggle  O'Connell  stands, 
in  influence  and  ability,  equal  with  the  best.  I  know 


DANIEL  c?  CON  NELL.  187 

the  credit  all  those  measures  do  to  English  leaders; 
but,  in  my  opinion,  the  next  generation  will  test  the 
statesmanship  of  Peel,  Palmerston,  Russell,  and  Glad- 
stone, almost  entirely  by  their  conduct  of  the  Irish 
question.    All  the  laurels  they  have  hitherto  won  in  that  5 
field  are  rooted  in  ideas  which  Grattan  and  O'Con- 
nell  urged  on  reluctant  hearers  for  half  a  century. 
Why  do  Bismarck  and  Alexander  look  with  such  con- 
temptuous indifference  on  every  attempt  of  England 
to  mingle  in  European  affairs?     Because  they  know  ic 
they  have  but  to  lift  a  finger,  and  Ireland  stabs  her  in 
the  back.     Where  was  the  statesmanship  of  English 
leaders  when  they  allowed  such  an  evil  to  grow  so  for-, 
midable?    This   is    Ireland   to-day.     What   was    she 
when  O'Connell  undertook  her  cause?     The  saddest  15 
of  Irish  poets  has  described  her: 


"  O  Ireland,  my  country,  the  hour  of  thy  pride  and  thy  splendor  hath 
passed, 

And  the  chain  that  was  spurned  in  thy  moments  of  power  hangs  heavy 
around  thee  at  last  ! 

There  are  marks  in  the  fate  of  each  clime,  there  are  turns  in  the  for- 
tunes of  men  ; 

But  the  changes  of  realms  or  the  chances  of  time  shall  never  restore 
thee  again.  20 


"  Thou  art  chained  to  the  wheel  of  the  foe  by  links  which  a  world  can- 
not sever  : 

With  thy  tyrant  through  storm  and  through  calm  thou  shall  go,  and 
thy  sentence  is  bondage  forever. 

Thou  art  doomed  for  the  thankless  to  toil,  thou  art  left  for  the  proud 
to  disdain  : 

And  the  blood  of  thy  sons  and  the  wealth  of  thy  soil  shall  be  lavished 
and  lavished  in  vain. 


1 88  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

"  Thy  riches  with  taunts  shall  be  taken,  thy  valor  with  coldness  be 

paid  ; 
And  of  millions  who  see  thee  thus  sunk  and  forsaken  not  one  shall 

stand  forth  in  thine  aid. 
In  the  nations  thy  place  is  left  void  ;  thou  art  lost  in  the  list  of  the 

free  ; 
Even  realms  by  the  plague  and  the  earthquake  destroyed  may  revive, 

but  no  hope  is  for  thee. " 

5  It  was  at  this  moment,  when  the  cloud  came  down 
close  to  earth,  that  O'Connell,  then  a  young  lawyer 
just  admitted  to  the  bar,  flung  himself  in  front 
of  his  countrymen,  and  begged  them  to  make 
one  grand  effort.  The  hierarchy  of  the  Church 

10  disowned  him.  They  said,  "  We  have  seen  every 
attempt  lead  always  up  to  the  scaffold;  we  are 
not  willing  to  risk  another  effort."  The  peerage 
of  the  island  repudiated  him.  They  said,  "  We 
have  struggled  and  bled  for  a  half  dozen  cen- 

isturies;  it  is  better  to  sit  down  content."  Alone,  a 
young  man,  without  office,  without  wealth,  without 
renown,  he  flung  himself  in  front  of  the  people,  and 
asked  for  a  new  effort.  What  was  the  power  left  him? 
Simply  the  people — poverty-stricken,  broken-hearted 

20  peasants  standing  on  a  soil  soaked  with  the  blood  of 
their  ancestors,  cowering  under  a  code  of  which 
Brougham  said  that  "  they  could  not  lift  their  hands 
without  breaking  it."  It  was  a  community  impover- 
ished by  five  centuries  of  oppression — four  millions  of 

25  Catholics  robbed  of  every  acre  of  their  native  land;  it 
was  an  island  torn  by  race-hatred  and  religious  bigo- 
try, her  priests  indifferent,  and  her  nobles  hopeless  or 
traitors.  The  wiliest  of  her  enemies,  a  Protestant 
Irishman,  ruled  the  British  senate;  the  sternest  of  her 

30  tyrants,   a   Protestant    Irishman,    led    the    armies   of 


DANI&L   a  CON  NELL.  189 

Europe.  Puritan  hate,  which  had  grown  blinder  and 
more  bitter  since  the  days  of  Cromwell,  gave  them 
weapons.  Ireland  herself  lay  bound  in  the  iron  links 
of  a  code  which  Montesquieu  said  could  have  been 
"  made  only  by  devils,  and  should  be  registered  only  in  5 
hell."  Her  millions  were  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
great  reform  engine  of  modern  times,  since  they  could 
neither  read  nor  write. 

Well,  in  order  to  lead  Ireland  in  that  day  an  Irish- 
man must  have  four  elements,  and  he  must  have  them  10 
also  to  a  large  extent  to-day.     The  first  is,  he  must  be 
what  an  Irishman  calls  a  gentleman,  every  inch  of  him, 
from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot — 
that  is,  he  must  trace  his  lineage  back  to  the  legends 
of  Ireland.     Well,  O'Connell  could  do  that;  he  be-  15 
longed  to  one  of  the  perhaps  seven  royal  families  of 
the  old  history.     Secondly,  he  must  have  proved  his 
physical  courage  in  the  field  or  by  the  duel.     Well, 
O'Connell  knew  this;  his  enemies  knew  it.     Bred  at 
St.  Omer,  with  a  large  leaning  to  be  a  priest,  he  had  20 
the  most  emphatic  scruples  against  the  duel,  and  so 
announced  himself;  so  that  when  he  had  got  his  head 
above   the   mass   and   began    to   be    seen,   a    Major 
d'Esterre,  agent  of  the  Dublin  Corporation,  visited 
him  with  continuous  insult.     Every  word  that  had  in-  25 
suit  in   it  was   poured   upon   his   head   through   the 
journals.     O'Connell   saw  the  dread   alternative — he 
must  either  give  satisfaction  to  the  gentleman  or  leave 
the  field;  and  at  last  he  consented  to  a  challenge.     He 
passed  the  interval  between  the  challenge  and  the  day  30 
of  meeting  in  efforts  to  avoid  it,  which  were  all  at- 
tributed to  cowardice.     When  at  last  he  stood  oppo- 
site his  antagonist,  he  said  to  his  second,  "  God  forbid 


190  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

that  I  should  risk  a  life;  mark  me,  I  shall  fire  below 
the  knee."  But  you  know  in  early  practice  with  the 
pistol  you  always  fire  above  the  mark;  and  O'Con- 
nell's  pistol  took  effect  above  the  knee,  and  D'Esterre 
5  fell  mortally  wounded.  O'Connell  recorded  in  the 
face  of  Europe  a  vow  against  further  dueling.  He 
settled  a  pension  on  the  widow  of  his  antagonist;  and 
a  dozen  years  later,  when  he  held  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars' worth  of  briefs  in  the  northern  courts,  he  flung 

10  them  away,  and  went  to  the  extreme  south  to  save  for 
her  the  last  acre  she  owned.  After  this  his  sons 
fought  his  duels;  and  when  Disraeli,  anxious  to  prove 
himself  a  courageous  man,  challenged  O'Connell,  he 
put  the  challenge  in  his  pocket.  Disraeli,  to  get  the 

15  full  advantage  of  the  matter,  sent  his  letter  to  the 
London  Times;  whereupon  Maurice  O'Connell  sent 
the  Jew  a  message  that  there  was  an  O'Connell  who 
would  fight  the  duel  if  he  wanted  it,  but  his  name 
was  not  Daniel.  Disraeli  did  not  continue  the  corre- 

20  spondence. 

Thirdly,  an  Irish  leader  must  not  only  be  a  lawyer 
of  great  acuteness,  but  he  must  have  a  great  reputa- 
tion for  being  such.  He  had  to  lift  three  millions  of 
people,  and  fling  them  against  a  government  that 

25  held  in  its  hand  a  code  which  made  it  illegal  for  any 
one  of  them  to  move;  and  they  never  had  moved  prior 
to  this  that  it  did  not  end  at  the  scaffold.  For  twenty 
long  years  O'Connell  lifted  these  three  millions  of 
men,  and  flung  them  against  the  British  government 

30  at  every  critical  moment,  and  no  sheriff  ever  put  his 
hand  on  one  of  his  followers;  and  when  late  in  life  the 
Queen's  Bench  of  Judges,  sitting  in  Dublin,  sent  him 
to  jail,  he  stood  almost  alone  in  his  interpretation  of 


DANIEL   0' CON  NELL.  I91 

the  statutes  against  the  legal  talent  of  the  island.  He 
appealed  to  the  House  of  Lords,  and  the  judges  of 
England  confirmed  his  construction  of  the  law  and 
set  him  free.  Fourthly,  an  Irish  leader  must  be  an 
orator;  he  must  have  the  magic  that  molds  millions  of  5 
souls  into  one.  Of  this  I  shall  have  more  to  say  in  a 
moment. 

In  this  mass  of  Irish  ignorance,  weakness,  and  quar- 
rel, one  keen  eye  saw  hidden  the  elements  of  union 
and  strength.  With  rarest  skill  he  called  them  forth,  10 
and  marshaled  them  into  rank.  Then  this  one  man, 
without  birth,  wealth,  or  office,  in  a  land  ruled  by  birth, 
wealth,  and  office,  molded  from  those  unsuspected  ele- 
ments a  power  which,  overawing  king,  senate,  and 
people,  wrote  his  single  will  on  the  statute-book  of  the  15 
most  obstinate  nation  in  Europe.  Safely  to  emanci- 
pate the  Irish  Catholics,  and,  in  spite  of  Saxon-Prot- 
estant hate,  to  lift  all  Ireland  to  the  level  of  British 
citizenship — this  was  the  problem  which  statesman- 
ship and  patriotism  had  been  seeking  for  two  centu-  20 
ries  to  solve.  For  this,  blood  had  been  poured  out  like 
water.  On  this,  the  genius  of  Swift,  the  learning  of 
Molyneux,  and  the  eloquence  of  Bushe,  Grattan,  and 
Burke  had  been  wasted.  English  leaders  ever  since 
Fox  had  studied  this  problem  anxiously.  They  saw  25 
that  the  safety  of  the  empire  was  compromised.  At 
one  or  two  critical  moments  in  the  reign  of  George 
III.,  one  signal  from  an  Irish  leader  would  have 
snapped  the  chain  that  bound  Ireland  to  his  throne. 
His  ministers  recognized  it;  and  they  tried  every  ex- 30 
pedient,  exhausted  every  device,  dared  every  peril, 
kept  oaths  or  broke  them,  in  order  to  succeed.  All 
failed;  and  not  only  failed,  but  acknowledged  they 


192  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

could  see  no  way  in  which  success  could  ever  be 
achieved. 

O'Connell  achieved  it.     Out  of  this  darkness,  he 
called  forth  light.     Out  of  this  most  abject,  weak,  and 

5  pitiable  of  kingdoms,  he  made  a  power;  and  dying,  he 
left  in  Parliament  a  specter  which,  unless  appeased, 
pushes  Whig  and  Tory  ministers  alike  from  their 
stools. 

But  Brougham  says  he  was  a  demagogue.     Fie  on 

10  Wellington,  Derby,  Peel,  Palmerston,  Liverpool,  Rus- 
sell, and  Brougham,  to  be  fooled  and  ruled  by  a  dema- 
gogue! What  must  they,  the  subjects,  be,  if  O'Con- 
nell, their  king,  be  only  a  bigot  and  a  demagogue?  A 
demagogue  rides  the  storm;  he  has  never  really  the 

15  ability  to  create  one.  He  uses  it  narrowly,  ignorantly, 
and  for  selfish  ends.  If  not  crushed  by  the  force 
which,  without  his  will,  has  flung  him  into  power,  he 
leads  it  with  ridiculous  miscalculation  against  some 
insurmountable  obstacle  that  scatters  it  forever.  Dy- 

20  ing,  he  leaves  no  mark  on  the  elements  with  which  he 
has  been  mixed.  Robespierre  will  serve  for  an  illus- 
tration. It  took  O'Connell  thirty  years  of  patient  and 
sagacious  labor  to  mold  elements  whose  existence  no 
man,  however  wise,  had  ever  discerned  before.  He 

25  used  them  unselfishly,  only  to  break  the  yoke  of  his 
race.  Nearly  fifty  years  have  passed  since  his  tri- 
umph, but  his  impress  still  stands  forth  clear  and  sharp 
on  the  empire's  policy.  Ireland  is  wholly  indebted  to 
him  for  her  political  education.  Responsibility  edu- 

socates;  he  lifted  her  to  broader  responsibilities.  Her 
possession  of  power  makes  it  the  keen  interest  of  other 
classes  to  see  she  i3  well  informed.  He  associated  her 
with  all  the  reform  movements  of  Great  Britain.  This 


DANIEL   a  CON  NELL.  193 

is  the  education  of  affairs,  broader,  deeper,  and  more 
real  than  what  school  or  college  can  give.  This  and 
power,  his  gifts,  are  the  lever  which  lifts  her  to  every 
other  right  and  privilege.  How  much  England  owes 
him  we  can  never  know;  since  how  great  a  danger  and  5 
curse  Ireland  would  have  been  to  the  empir.e,  had  she 
continued  the  cancer  Pitt  and  Castlereagh  left  her,  is  a 
chapter  of  history  which,  fortunately,  can  never  be 
written.  No  demagogue  ever  walked  through  the 
streets  of  Dublin,  as  O'Connell  and  Grattan  did  more  10 
than  once,  hooted  and  mobbed  because  they  opposed 
themselves  to  the  mad  purpose  of  the  people,  and 
crushed  it  by  a  stern  resistance.  No  demagogue 
would  have  offered  himself  to  a  race  like  the  Irish  as 
the  apostle  of  peace,  pledging  himself  to  the  British  *5 
government  that,  in  the  long  agitation  before  him, 
with  brave  millions  behind  him  spoiling  for  a  fight, 
he  would  never  draw  a  sword. 

I  have  purposely  dwrelt  long  on  this  view,  because 
the  extent  and  the  far-reaching  effects  of  O'Connell's  20 
work,  without  regard  to  the  motives  which  inspired 
him,  or  the  methods  he  used,  have  never  been  fully 
recognized. 

Briefly  stated,  he  did  what  the  ablest  and  bravest  of 
his  forerunners  had  tried  to  do  and  failed.     He  created  25 
a  public  opinion  and  unity  of  purpose, — no  matter 
what   be    now    the    dispute    about    methods, — which 
made  Ireland  a  nation;  he  gave  her  British  citizenship, 
and  a  place  in  the  imperial  Parliament;  he  gave  her  a 
press  and  a  public:  with  these  tools  her  destiny  is  in  30 
her  own  hands.     When  the  Abolitionists  got  for  the 
negro  schools  and   the  vote,  they   settled  the  slave 
question;     for    they     planted     the     sure     seeds     of 


194  WENDELL   PHILLIPS. 

civil  equality.  O'Connell  did  this  for  Ireland 
— this  which  no  Irishman  before  had  ever  dreamed 
of  attempting.  Swift  and  Molyneux  were  able. 
Grattan,  Bushe,  Saurin,  Burrowes,  Plunket,  Cur- 
5  ran,  Burke,  were  eloquent.  Throughout  the  island 
courage  was  a  drug.  They  gained  now  one 
point,  and  now  another;  but,  after  all,  they  left  the 
helm  of  Ireland's  destiny  in  foreign  and  hostile  hands. 
O'Connell  was  brave,  sagacious,  eloquent;  but,  more 

10  than  all,  he  was  a  statesman,  for  he  gave  to  Ireland's 
own  keeping  the  key  of  her  future.  As  Lord  Bacon 
marches  down  the  centuries,  he  may  lay  one  hand  on 
the  telegraph  and  the  other  on  the  steam-engine,  and 
say,  "  These  are  mine,  for  I  taught  you  how  to  study 

15  Nature."  In  a  similar  sense,  as  shackle  after  shackle 
falls  from  Irish  limbs,  O'Connell  may  say,  "  This  vic- 
tory is  mine ;  for  I  taught  you  the  method,  and  I  gave 
you  the  arms." 

I  have  hitherto  been  speaking  of  his  ability  and  suc- 

20  cess;  by  and  by  we  will  look  at  his  character,  motives, 
and  methods.  This  unique  ability  even  his  enemies 
have  been  forced  to  confess.  Harriet  Martineau,  in 
her  incomparable  history  of  the  "  Thirty  Years' 
Peace,"  has,  with  Tory  hate,  misconstrued  every  action 

25  of  O'Connell,  and  invented  a  bad  motive  for  each  one. 
But  even  she  confesses  that  "  he  rose  in  power,  influ- 
ence, and  notoriety  to  an  eminence  such  as  no  other 
individual  citizen  has  attained  in  modern  times  "  in 
Great  Britain.  And  one  of  his  by  no  means  partial 

30  biographers  has  well  said : 

"  Any  man  who  turns  over  the  magazines  snd  news- 
papers of  that  period  will  easily  perceive  how  grandly 
O'Connell's  figure  dominated  in  politics,  how  com- 


DANIEL   VCONNELL.  IQ5 

pletely  he  had  dispelled  the  indifference  that  had  so 
long  prevailed  on  Irish  questions,  how  clearly  his  agi- 
tation stands  forth  as  the  great  fact  of  the  time.  .  . 
The  truth  is,  his  position,  so  far  from  being  a  common 
one,  is  absolutely  unique  in  history.  We  may  search  5 
in  vain  through  the  records  of  the  past  for  any  man, 
who  without  the  effusion  of  a  drop  of  blood,  or  the 
advantages  of  office  or  rank,  succeeded  in  governing 
a  people  so  absolutely  and  so  long,  and  in  creating  so 
entirely  the  elements  of  his  power.  .  .  There  was  no  10 
rival  to  his  supremacy,  there  was  no  restriction  to  his 
authority.  He  played  with  the  enthusiasm  he  had 
aroused,  with  the  negligent  ease  of  a  master;  he  gov- 
erned the  complicated  organization  he  had  created, 
with  a  sagacity  that  never  failed.  He  made  himself  15 
the  focus  of  the  attention  of  other  lands,  and  the  center 
around  which  the  rising  intellect  of  his  own  revolved. 
He  had  transformed  the  whole  social  system  of  Ire- 
land; almost  reversed  the  relative  positions  of  Protes- 
tants and  Catholics ;  remodeled  by  his  influence  the  20 
representative,  ecclesiastical,  and  educational  institu- 
tions, and  created  a  public  opinion  that  surpassed  the 
wildest  dreams  of  his  predecessors.  Can  we  wonder 
at  the  proud  exultation  with  which  he  exclaimed, 
'  Grattan  sat  by  the  cradle  of  his  country,  and  followed  25 
her  hearse;  it  was  left  for  me  to  sound  the  resurrection 
trumpet,  and  to  show  that  she  was  not  dead,  but 
sleeping '?  " 

But  the  method  by  which  he  achieved  his  success  is 
perhaps  more  remarkable  than  even  the  success  itself.  30 
An  Irish  poet,  one  of  his  bitterest  assailants  thirty 
years  ago,  has  laid  a  chaplet  of  atonement  on  his  altar, 
and  one  verse  runs: 


I96  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

"  O  great  world-leader  of  a  mighty  age  ! 
Praise  unto  thee  let  all  the  people  give. 
By  thy  great  name  of  LIBERATOR  live 
In  golden  letters  upon  history's  page  ; 
5  And  this  thy  epitaph  while  time  shall  be-, — 

He  found  his  country  chained,  but  left  her  free." 

It  is  natural  that  Ireland  should  remember  him  as 
her  Liberator.  But,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you, 
I  think  Europe  and  America  will  remember  him  by  a 

10  higher  title.  I  said  in  opening,  that  the  cause  of  con- 
stitutional government  is  more  indebted  to  O'Connell 
than  to  any  other  political  leader  of  the  last  two  cen- 
turies. What  I  mean  is,  that  he  invented  the  great 
method  of  constitutional  agitation.  Agitator  is  a 

15  title  which  will  last  longer,  which  suggests  a  broader 
and  more  permanent  influence,  and  entitles  him  to  the 
gratitude  of  far  more  millions  than  the  name  Ireland 
loves  to  give  him.  The  "  first  great  agitator  "  is  his 
proudest  title  to  gratitude  and  fame.  Agitation  is  the 

20  method  that  puts  the  school  by  the  side  of  the  ballot- 
box.  The  Fremont  canvass  was  the  nation's  best 
school.  Agitation  prevents  rebellion,  keeps  the  peace, 
and  secures  progress.  Every  step  she  gains  is  gained 
forever.  Muskets  are  the  weapons  of  animals;  agi- 

25  tation  is  the  atmosphere  of  brains.  The  old  Hindoo 
saw,  in  his  dream,  the  human  race  led  out  to  its 
various  fortunes.  First,  men  were  in  chains  which 
went  back  to  an  iron  hand;  then  he  saw  them  led  by 
threads  from  the  brain  which  went  upward  to  an  un- 

30  seen  hand.  The  first  was  despotism,  iron  and  ruling 
by  force.  The  last  was  civilization,  ruling  by  ideas. 

Agitation  is  an  old  word  with  a  new  meaning.  Sir 
Robert  Peel,  the  first  English  leader  who  felt  he  was 


DANIEL  O'CONNELL.  197 

its  tool,  defined  it  to  be  "  the  marshaling  of  the  con- 
science of  a  nation  to  mold  its  laws."  O'Connell 
was  the  first  to  show  and  use  its  power,  to  lay  down 
its  principles,  to  analyze  its  elements,  and  mark  out 
its  metes  and  bounds.  It  is  voluntary,  public,  and  5 
above-board, — no  oath-bound  secret  societies  like 
those  of  old  time  in  Ireland,  and  of  the  Continent 
to-day.  Its  means  are  reason  and  argument — no  ap- 
peal to  arms.  Wait  patiently  for  the  slow  growth  of 
public  opinion.  I0 

The  Frenchman  is  angry  with  his  government;  he 
throws  up  barricades,  and  shots  his  guns  to  the  lips. 
A  week's  fury  drags  the  nation  ahead  a  hand-breadth ; 
reaction  lets  it  settle  halfway  back  again.  As  Lord 
Chesterfield  said,  a  hundred  years  ago,  "  You  French-  15 
men  erect  barricades,  but  never  any  barriers."  An 
Englishman  is  dissatisfied  with  public  affairs.  He 
brings  his  charges,  offers  his  proofs,  waits  for  preju- 
dice to  relax,  for  public  opinion  to  inform  itself. 
Then  every  step  taken  is  taken  forever;  an  abuse  once  20 
removed  never  reappears  in  history.  Where  did 
he  learn  this  method?  Practically  speaking,  from 
O'Connell.  It  was  he  who  planted  its  corner  stone — 
argument,  no  violence ;  no  political  change  is  worth  a 
drop  of  human  blood.  His  other  motto  was,  "  Tell  25 
the  whole  truth  ";  no  concealing  half  of  one's  convic- 
tions to  make  the  other  half  more  acceptable;  no  de- 
nial of  one  truth  to  gain  hearing  for  another;  no  com- 
promise; or,  as  he  phrased  it,  "  Nothing  is  politically 
right  which  is  morally  wrong."  30 

Above  all,  plant  yourself  on  the  millions.  The  sym- 
pathy of  every  human  being,  no  matter  how  ignorant 
or  how  humble,  adds  weight  to  public  opinion.  At 


198  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

the  outset  of  his  career  the  clergy  turned  a  deaf  ear 
to  his  appeal.  They  had  seen  their  flocks  led  up  to 
useless  slaughter  for  centuries,  and  counseled  sub- 
mission. The  nobility  repudiated  him;  they  were 
5  either  traitors  or  hopeless.  Protestants  had  touched 
their  Ultima  Thule  with  Grattan,  and  seemed  settling 
down  in  despair.  English  Catholics  advised  waiting 
till  the  tyrant  grew  merciful.  O'Connell,  left  alone, 
said,  "  I  will  forge  these  four  millions  of  Irish  hearts 

10  into  a  thunderbolt  which  shall  suffice  to  dash  this  des- 
potism to  pieces."  And  he  did  it.  Living  under  an 
aristocratic  government,  himself  of  the  higher  class, 
he  anticipated  Lincoln's  wisdom,  and  framed  his 
movements  "  for  the  people,  of  the  people,  and  by  the 

15  people." 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  freer  a  nation  becomes, 
the  more  utterly  democratic  the  form  of"  its  institu- 
tions, this  outside  agitation,  this  pressure  of  public 
opinion  to  direct  political  action,  becomes  more  and 

20  more  necessary.  The  general  judgment  is  that  the 
freest  possible  government  produces  the  freest  pos- 
sible men  and  women — the  most  individual,  the  least 
servile  to  the  judgment  of  others.  But  a  moment's 
reflection  will  show  any  man  that  this  is  an  unreason- 

25  able  expectation,  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  entire 
equality  and  freedom  in  political  forms  almost  inevi- 
tably tend  to  make  the  individual  subside  into  the  mass, 
and  lose  his  identity  in  the  general  whole.  Suppose 
we  stood  in  England  to-night.  There  is  the  nobility, 

30  and  here  is  the  Church.  There  is  the  trading  class, 
and  here  is  the  literary.  A  broad  gulf  separates  the 
four;  and  provided^  member  of  either  can  conciliate 
his  own  section,  he  can  afford,  in  a  very  large  meas- 


DANIEL   O'CONNELL.  199 

ure,  to  despise  the  judgment  of  the  other  three.  He 
has,  to  some  extent,  a  refuge  and  a  breakwater 
against  the  tyranny  of  what  we  call  public  opinion. 
But  in  a  country  like  ours,  of  absolute  democratic 
equality,  public  opinion  is  not  only  omnipotent,  it  is  5 
omnipresent.  There  is  no  refuge  from  its  tyranny; 
there  is  no  hiding  from  its  reach;  and  the  result  is 
that,  if  you  take  the  old  Greek  lantern,  and  go  about 
to  seek  among  a  hundred,  you  will  find  not  one  single 
American  who  really  has  not,  or  who  does  not  fancy  10 
at  least  that  he  has  something  to  gain  or  lose  in  his 
ambition,  his  social  life,  or  his  business,  from  the  good 
opinion  and  the  votes  of  those  about  him.  And  the 
consequence  is,  that, — instead  of  being  a  mass  of  indi- 
viduals, each  one  fearlessly  blurting  out  his  own  con-  15 
victions, — as  a  nation,  compared  with  other  nations, 
we  are  a  mass  of  cowards.  More  than  any  other 
people,  we  are  afraid  of  each  other. 

If  you  were  a  caucus  to-night,  Democratic  or  Re- 
publican, and  I  were  your  orator,  none  of  you  could  20 
get  beyond   the  necessary  and   timid   limitations   of 
party.     You  not  only  would  not  demand,  you  would 
not  allow  me  to  utter,  one  word  of  what  you  really 
thought,  and  what  I  thought.     You  would  demand  of 
me — and  my  value  as  a  caucus  speaker  would  depend  25 
entirely   on   the   adroitness    and    the   vigilance   with 
which   I  met  the  demand — that   I  should  not  utter 
one    single    word     which     would    compromise    the 
vote    of    next     week.     That    is    politics;     so    with 
the     press.      Seemingly     independent,     and     some- 30 
times    really    so,    the    press    can    afford    only    to 
mount  the  cresting   wave,  not  go  beyond   it.     The 
editor  might  as  well  shoot  his  reader  with  a  bullet 


200  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

as  with  a  new  idea.  He  must  hit  the  exact  line  of  the 
opinion  of  the  day.  I  am  not  finding  fault  with  him; 
I  am  only  describing  him.  Some  three  years  ago  I 
took  to  one  of  the  freest  of  the  Boston  journals  a 
5  letter,  and  by  appropriate  consideration  induced  its 
editor  to  print  it.  And  as  we  glanced  along  its  con- 
tents, and  came  to  the  concluding  statement,  he  said, 
"  Couldn't  you  omit  that?"  I- said,  "  No;  I  wrote  it 
for  that;  it  is  the  gist  of  the  statement."  "  Well,"  said 

10  he,  "  it  is  true;  there  is  not  a  boy  in  the  streets  that 
does  not  know  it  is  true;  but  I  wish  you  could 
omit  it." 

I  insisted;  and  the  next  morning,  fairly  and  justly, 
he  printed  the  whole.     Side  by  side  he  put  an  article 

15  of  his  own,  in  which  he  said,  "  We  copy  in  the  next 
column  an  article  from  Mr.  Phillips,  and  we  only  re- 
gret the  absurd  and  unfounded  statement  with  which 
he  concludes  it."  He  had  kept  his  -promise  by  print- 
ing the  article;  he  saved  his  reputation  by  printing  the 

20  comment.  And  that,  again,  is  the  inevitable,  the 
essential  limitation  of  the  press  in  a  republican  com- 
munity. Our  institutions,  floating  unanchored  on 
the  shifting  surface  of  popular  opinion,  cannot  afford 
to  hold  back,  or  to  draw  forward,  a  hated  question, 

25  and  compel  a  reluctant  public  to  look  at  it  and  to  con- 
sider it.  Hence,  as  you  see  at  once,  the  moment  a 
large  issue,  twenty  years  ahead  of  its  age,  presents 
itself  to  the  consideration  of  an  empire  or  of  a  republic, 
just  in  proportion  to  the  freedom  of  its  institutions  is 

30  the  necessity  of  a  platform  outside  of  the  press,  of  poli- 
tics, and  of  its  Church,  whereon  stand  men  with  no 
candidate  to  elect,  with  no  plan  to  carry,  with  no  repu- 
tation to  stake,  with  no  object  but  the  truth,  no  pur- 


DANIEL  ff  CON  NELL.  201 

pose  but  to  tear  the  question  open  and  let  the  light 
through  it.  So  much  in  explanation  of  a  word  in- 
finitely hated, — agitation  and  agitators, — but  an  ele- 
ment which  the  progress  of  modern  government  has 
developed  more  and  more  every  day.  5 

The  great  invention  we  trace  in  its  twilight  and 
seed  to  the  days  of  the  Long  Parliament.  Defoe  and 
L'Estrange,  later  down,  were  the  first  prominent  Eng- 
lishmen to  fling  pamphlets  at  the  House  of  Commons. 
Swift  ruled  England  by  pamphlets.  Wilberforce  sum-  10 
moned  the  Church,  and  sought  the  alliance  of  influen- 
tial classes.  But  O'Connell  first  showed  a  profound 
faith  in  the  human  tongue.  He  descried  afar  off  the 
coming  omnipotence  of  the  press.  He  called  the 
millions  to  his  side,  appreciated  the  infinite  weight  of  15 
the  simple  human  heart  and  conscience,  and  grafted 
democracy  into  the  British  empire.  The  later  Aboli- 
tionists— Buxton,  Sturge,  and  Thompson — borrowed 
his  method.  Cobden  flung  it  in  the  face  of  the  almost 
omnipotent  landholders  of  England,  and  broke  the  ao» 
Tory  party  forever.  They  only  haunt  upper  air  now 
in  the  stolen  garments  of  the  Whigs.  The  English 
administration  recognizes  this  new  partner  in  the 
government,  and  waits  to  be  moved  on.  Garrison 
brought  the  new  weapon  to  our  shores.  The  only  25 
wholly  useful  and  thoroughly  defensible  war  Chris- 
tendom has  seen  in  this  century,  the  greatest  civil  and 
social  change  the  English  race  ever  saw,  are  the  result. 

This  great  servant  and  weapon,  peace  and  consti- 
tutional  government  owe  to  O'Connell.     Who   has  30 
given  progress  a  greater  boon?    What  single  agent 
has  done  as  much  to  bless  and  improve  the  world  for 
the  last  fifty  years? 


202  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

O'Connell  has  been  charged  with  coarse,  violent, 
and  intemperate  language.  The  criticism  is  of  little 
importance.  Stupor  and  palsy  never  understand  life. 
White-livered  indifference  is  always  disgusted  and  an- 
5  noyed  by  earnest  conviction.  Protestants  criticised 
Luther  in  the  same  way.  It  took  three  centuries  to 
carry  us  far  off  enough  to  appreciate  his  colossal  pro- 
portions. It  is  a  hundred  years  to-day  since  O'Con- 
nell was  born.  It  will  take  another  hundred  to  put 

10  us  at  such  an  angle  as  will  enable  us  correctly  to  meas- 
ure his  stature.  Premising  that  it  would  be  folly  to 
find  fault  with  a  man  struggling  for  life  because  his 
attitudes  were  ungraceful,  remembering  the  Scythian 
King's  answer  to  Alexander,  criticising  his  strange 

15  weapon, — "  If  you  knew  how  precious  freedom  was, 
you  would  defend  it  even  with  axes," — we  must  see 
that  O'Connell's  own  explanation  is  evidently  sincere 
and  true.  He  found  the  Irish  heart  so  cowed,  and 
Englishmen  so  arrogant,  that  he  saw  it  needed  an  in- 
*  20  dependence  verging  on  insolence,  a  defiance  that 
touched  extremest  limits,  to  breathe  self-respect  into 
his  own  race,  teach  the  aggressor  manners,  and  sober 
him  into  respectful  attention. 

It  was  the  same  with  us  Abolitionists.     Webster 

25  had  taught  the  North  the  bated  breath  and  crouching 
of  a  slave.  It  needed  with  us  an  attitude  of  inde- 
pendence that  was  almost  insolent,  it  needed  that  we 
should  exhaust  even  the  Saxon  vocabulary  of  scorn, 
to  fitly  utter  the  righteous  and  haughty  contempt  that 

30  honest  men  had  for  man-stealers.  Only  in  that  way 
could  we  wake  the  North  to  self-respect,  or  teach  the 
South  that  at  length  she  had  met  her  equal,  if  not  her 
master.  On  a  broad  canvas,  meant  for  the  public 


DANIEL   ffCONNELL.  203 

square,  the  tiny  lines  of  a  Dutch  interior  would  be  in- 
visible. In  no  other  circumstances  was  the  French 
maxim,  "  You  can  never  make  a  revolution  with  rose- 
water,"  more  profoundly  true.  The  world  has  hardly 
yet  learned  how  deep  a  philosophy  lies  hid  in  Hamlet's  5 

"  Nay,  an  thou'lt  mouth, 
I'll  rant  as  well  as  thou." 

O'Connell  has  been  charged  with  insincerity  in  urg- 
ing repeal,  and  those  who  defended  his  sincerity  have 
leaned  toward  allowing  that  it  proved  his  lack  of  com- 10 
mon  sense.  I  think  both  critics  mistaken.  His  ear- 
liest speeches  point  to  repeal  as  his  ultimate  object; 
indeed,  he  valued  emancipation  largely  as  a  means  to 
that  end.  No  fair  view  of  his  whole  life  will  leave  the 
slightest  ground  to  doubt  his  sincerity.  As  for  the  15 
reasonableness  and  necessity  of  the  measure,  I  think 
every  year  proves  them.  Considering  O'Connell's 
position,  I  wholly  sympathize  in  his  profound  and  un- 
shaken loyalty  to  the  empire.  Its  share  in  the  British 
empire  makes  Ireland's  strength  and  importance.  20 
Standing  alone  among  the  vast  and  massive  sov- 
ereignties of  Europe,  she  would  be  weak,  insignifi- 
cant, and  helpless.  Were  I  an  Irishman  I  should 
cling  to  the  empire. 

Fifty  or  sixty  years  hence,  when  scorn  of  race  has  25 
vanished,  and  bigotry  is  lessened,  it  may  be  possible 
for   Ireland   to   be   safe  and   free   while   holding  the 
position  to  England  that  Scotland  does.     But  during 
this  generation  and  the  next,  O'Connell  was  wise  in 
claiming  that   Ireland's  rights  would   never  be  safe  30 
without  "  home  rule."     A   substantial   repeal   of  the 
union  should  be  every  Irishman's  earnest  aim.     Were 


204  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

I  their  adviser,  I  should  constantly  repeat  what  Grat- 
tan  said  in  1810,  "  The  best  advice,  gentlemen,  I  can 
give  on  all  occasions  is,  '  Keep  knocking  at  the 
union.' " 

5  We  imagine  an  Irishman  to  be  only  a  zealot  on 
fire.  We  fancy  Irish  spirit  and  eloquence  to  be  only 
blind,  reckless,  headlong  enthusiasm.  But,  in  truth, 
Grattan  was  the  soberest  leader  of  his  day,  holding 
scrupulously  back  the  disorderly  elements,  which 

10  fretted  under  his  curb.  There  was  one  hour,  at  least, 
when  a  word  from  him  would  have  lighted  a  demo- 
cratic revolt  throughout  the  empire.  And  the  most 
remarkable  of  O'Connell's  gifts  was  neither  his  elo- 
quence nor  his  sagacity:  it  was  his  patience — 

15  "  patience,  all  the  passion  of  great  souls  " ;  the  tireless 
patience  which,  from  1800  to  1820,  went  from  town  to 
town,  little  aided  by  the  press,  to  plant  the  seeds  of  an 
intelligent  and  united,  as  well  as  hot  patriotism. 
Then,  after  many  years  and  long  toil,  waiting  for 

20  rivals  to  be  just,  for  prejudice  to  wear  out,  and  for 
narrowness  to  grow  wise,  using  British  folly  and  op- 
pression as  his  wand,  he  molded  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  most  excitable  of  races,  the  just  and  inevitable  in- 
dignation of  four  millions  of  Catholics,  the  hate  of 

25  plundered  poverty,  priest,  noble,  and  peasant,  into  one 
fierce  though  harmonious  mass.  He  held  it  in  care- 
ful check,  with  sober  moderation,  watching  every 
opportunity,  attracting  ally  after  ally,  never  forfeiting 
any  possible  friendship,  allowing  no  provocation  to 

30  stir  him  to  anything  that  would  not  help  his  cause, 
compelling  each  hottest  and  most  ignorant  of  his  fol- 
lowers to  remember  that  "  he  who  commits  a  crime 
helps  the  enemy."  At  last,  when  the  hour  struck,  this 


DANIEL  O' CONN  ELL.  205 

power  was  made  to  achieve  justice  for  itself,  and  put 
him  in  London, — him,  this  despised  Irishman,  this 
hated  Catholic,  this  mere  demagogue  and  man  of 
words,  him, — to  hold  the  Tory  party  in  one  hand,  and 
the  Whig  party  in  the  other;  all  this  without  shedding  5 
a  drop  of  blood,  or  disturbing  for  a  moment  the  peace 
of  the  empire. 

While  O'Connell  held  Ireland  in  his  hand,  her  peo- 
ple were  more  orderly,  law-abiding,  and  peaceful  than 
for  a  century  before,  or  during  any  year  since.  The  10 
strength  of  this  marvelous  control  passes  comprehen- 
sion. Out  West  I  met  an  Irishman  whose  father  held 
him  up  to  see  O'Connell  address  the  two  hundred 
thousand  men  at  Tara — literally  to  see,  not  to  hear 
him.  I  said,  "  But  you  could  not  all  hear  even  his  15 
voice."  "  Oh,  no,  sir!  Only  about  thirty  thousand 
could  hear  him;  but  we  all  kept  as  still  and  silent  as  if 
we  did."  With  magnanimous  frankness  O'Connell 
once  said,  "  I  never  could  have  held  those  monster 
meetings  without  a  crime,  without  disorder,  tumult,  20 
or  quarrel,  except  for  Father  Mathew's  aid."  Any 
man  can  build  a  furnace,  and  turn  water  into  steam 
— yes,  if  careless,  make  it  rend  his  dwelling  in  pieces. 
Genius  builds  the  locomotive,  harnesses  this  terrible 
power  in  iron  traces,  holds  it  with  master  hand  in  use-  25 
ful  limits,  and  gives  it  to  the  peaceable  service  of  man. 
The  Irish  people  were  O'Connell's  locomotive;  saga- 
cious patience  and  moderation  the  genius  that  built 
it;  Parliament  and  justice  the  station  he  reached. 

Everyone  who  has  studied  O'Connell's  life  sees  his  30 
marked  likeness  to  Luther — the  unity  of  both  their 
lives;  their  wit;  the  same  massive  strength,  even  if 
coarse-grained;  the  ease  with  which  each  reached  the 


206  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

masses,  the  power  with  which  they  wielded  them;  the 
same  unrivaled  eloquence,  fit  for  any  audience;  the 
same  instinct  of  genius  that  led  them  constantly  to 
acts  which,  as  Voltaire  said,  "  Foolish  men  call  rash, 
5  but  wisdom  sees  to  be  brave  " ;  the  same  broad  suc- 
cess. But  O'Connell  had  one  great  element  which 
Luther  lacked — the  universality  of  his  sympathy;  the 
far-reaching  sagacity  which  discerned  truth  afar  off, 
just  struggling  above  the  horizon;  the  loyal,  brave, 

10  and  frank  spirit  which  acknowledged  and  served  it; 
the  profound  and  rare  faith  which  believed  that  "  the 
whole  of  truth  can  never  do  harm  to  the  whole  of  vir- 
tue." From  the  serene  height  of  intellect  and  judg- 
ment to  which  God's  gifts  had  lifted  him,  he  saw 

15  clearly  that  no  one  right  was  ever  in  the  way  of  an- 
other, that  injustice  harms  the  wrong-doer  even  more 
than  the  victim,  that  whoever  puts  a  chain  on  another 
fastens  it  also  on  himself.  Serenely  confident  that 
the  truth  is  always  safe,  and  justice  always  expedient, 

20  he  saw  that  intolerance  is  only  want  of  faith.  He 
who  stifles  free  discussion  secretly  doubts  whether 
what  he  professes  to  believe  is  really  true.  Coleridge 
says,  "  See  how  triumphant  in  debate  and  notion 
O'Connell  is!  Why?  Because  he  asserts  a  broad 

25  principle,  acts  up  to  it,  rests  his  body  on  it,  and  has 
faith  in  it." 

Coworker  with  Father  Mathew;  champion  of  the 
Dissenters;  advocating  the  substantial  principles  of  the 
Charter,  though  not  a  Chartist;  foe  of  the  corn-laws; 

30  battling  against  slavery,  whether  in  India  or  the 
Carolinas;  the  great  democrat  who  in  Europe  seventy 
years  ago  called  the  people  to  his  side;  starting  a 
movement  of  the  people,  for  the  people,  by  the  people 


DANIEL   O'CONNELL.  207 

—show  me  another  record  as  broad  and  brave  as  this 
in  the  European  history  of  our  century.  Where  is 
the  English  statesman,  where  the  Irish  leader,  who  can 
claim  one?  No  wonder  every  Englishman  hated  and 
feared  him!  He  wounded  their  prejudices  at  every  5 
point.  Whig  and  Tory,  timid  Liberal,  narrow  Dis- 
senter, bitter  Radical — all  feared  and  hated  this  broad 
brave  soul,  who  dared  to  follow  Truth  wherever  he 
saw  her,  whose  toleration  was  as  broad  as  human 
nature,  and  his  sympathy  as  boundless  as  the  sea.  10 

To  show  you  that  he  never  took  a  leaf  from  our 
American  gospel  of  compromise;  that  he  never  filed 
his  tongue  to  silence  on  one  truth,  fancying  so  to  help 
another;  that  he  never  sacrificed  any  race  to  save  even 
Ireland — let  me  compare  him  with  Kossuth,  whose  15 
only  merits  were  his  eloquence  and  his  patriotism. 
When  Kossuth  was  in  Faneuil  Hall,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Here  is  a  flag  without  a  stain,  a  nation  without  a 
crime!  "  We  Abolitionists  appealed  to  him,  "  O  elo- 
quent son  of  the  Magyar,  come  to  break  chains !  have  20 
you  no  word,  no  pulse-beat,  for  four  millions  of 
negroes  bending  under  a  yoke  ten  times  heavier  than 
that  of  Hungary?  "  He  answered,  "  I  would  forget 
anybody,  I  would  praise  anything,  to  help  Hungary." 

O'Connell  never  said  anything  like  that.     When  I  25 
was  in  Naples,  I  asked  Sir  Thomas  Powell  Buxton, 
a  Tory,  "  Is  O'Connell  an  honest  man?  "    "  As  hon- 
est a  man  as  ever  breathed,"  said  he,  and  then  told  me 
this  story:  "  When,  in  1830,  O'Connell  entered  Parlia- 
ment, the  anti-slavery  cause  was  so  weak  that  it  had  30 
only  Lushington  and  myself  to  speak  for  it;  and  we 
agreed  that  when  he  spoke  I  should  cheer  him,  and 
when  I  spoke  he  should  cheer  me;  and  these  were  the 


208  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

only  cheers  we  ever  got.  O'Connell  came,  with  one 
Irish  member  to  support  him.  A  large  number  of 
members  [I  think  Buxton  said  twenty-seven]  whom 
we  called  the  West-India  interest,  the  Bristol  party, 
5  the  slave  party,  went  to  him,  saying,  '  O'Connell,  at 
last  you  are  in  the  House,  with  one  helper.  If  you 
will  never  go  down  to  Freemasons'  Hall  with  Bux- 
ton and  Brougham,  here  are  twenty-seven  votes  for 
you  on  every  Irish  question.  If  you  work  with  those 
10  Abolitionists,  count  us  always  against  you.'  " 

It  was  a  terrible  temptation.  How  many  a  so- 
called  statesman  would  have  yielded!  O'Connell  said, 
"  Gentlemen,  God  knows  I  speak  for  the  saddest  peo- 
ple the  sun  sees;  but  may  my  right  hand  forget  its 
15  cunning,  and  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth,  if  to  save  Ireland,  even  Ireland,  I  forget  the 
negro  one  single  hour! "  "  From  that  day,"  said 
Buxton,  "  Lushington  and  I  never  went  into  the  lobby 
that  O'Connell  did  not  follow  us." 
20  Some  years  afterward  I  went  into  Conciliation 
Hall,  where  O'Connell  was  arguing  for  repeal.  He 
lifted  from  the  table  a  thousand-pound  note  sent  them 
from  New  Orleans,  and  said  to  be  from  the  slave- 
holders of  that  city.  Coming  to  the  front  of  the  plat- 
as  form  he  said :  "  This  is  a  draft  of  one  thousand  pounds 
from  the  slave-holders  of  New  Orleans,  the  unpaid 
wages  of  the  negro.  Mr.  Treasurer,  I  suppose  the 
treasury  is  empty?  "  The  treasurer  nodded  to  show 
him  that  it  was,  and  he  went  on :  "  Old  Ireland  is 
30  very  poor;  but  thank  God  she  is  not  poor  enough  to 
take  the  unpaid  wages  of  anybody.  Send  it  back." 
A  gentleman  from  Boston  went  to  him  with  a  letter 
of  introduction  which  he  sent  up  to  him  at  his  house 


DANIEL   O'CONNELL.  209 

in  Merrion  Square.  O'Connell  came  down  to  the 
door,  as  was  his  wont,  put  out  both  his  hands,  and 
drew  him  into  his  library.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you," 
said  he;  "I  am  always  glad  to  see  anybody  from 
Massachusetts,  a  free  State."  "  But,"  said  the  guest,  5 
"  this  is  slavery  you  allude  to,  Mr.  O'Connell.  I 
would  like  to  say  a  word  to  you  in  justification  of  that 
institution."  "  Very  well,  sir — free  speech  in  this 
house;  say  anything  you  please.  But  before  you  be- 
gin to  defend  a  man's  right  to  own  his  own  brother,  10 
allow  me  to  step  out  and  lock  up  my  spoons." 

That  was  the  man.     The  ocean  of  his  philanthropy 
knew  no  shore. 

And  right  in  this  connection,  let  me  read  the  follow- 
ing dispatch:  15 

CINCINNATI,  O.,  August  6. 
WENDELL  PHILLIPS,  BOSTON  : 

The  national  conference  of  colored  newspaper-men  to  the  O'Con- 
nell Celebration,  greeting  : 

Resolved,  That  it  is  befitting  a  convention  of  colored  men  assembled  20 
on  the  centennial  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  the  liberator  of  Ireland 
and  friend  of  humanity,  Daniel  O'Connell,  to  recall  with  gratitude 
his  eloquent  and  effective  pleas  for  the  freedom  of  our  race  ;  and  we 
earnestly  commend  his  example  to  our  countrymen. 

J.  C.  JACKSON,  Secretary.  35 

PETER  H.  CLARK,  President, 
GEORGE  T.  RUBY. 
LEWIS  D.  EASTON. 

Learn  of  him,  friends,  the  hardest  lesson  we  ever 
have  set  us — that  of  toleration.  The  foremost  Catho-  30 
lie  of  his  age,  the  most  stalwart  champion  of  the 
Church,  he  was  also  broadly  and  sincerely  tolerant  of 
every  faith.  His  toleration  had  no  limit  and  no 
qualification. 


2io  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

I  scorn  and  scout  the  word  "  toleration  " ;  it  is  an 

insolent  term.     No  man,  properly  speaking,  tolerates 

another.     I  do  not  tolerate  a  Catholic,  neither  does 

he  tolerate  me.     We  are  equal,  and  acknowledge  each 

5  other's  right;  that  is  the  correct  statement. 

That  every  man  should  be  allowed  freely  to  wor- 
ship God  according  to  his  conscience,  that  no  man's 
civil  rights  should  be  affected  by  his  religious  creed, 
were  both  cardinal  principles  of  O'Connell.  He  had 
10  no  fear  that  any  doctrine  of  his  faith  could  be  en- 
dangered by  the  freest  possible  discussion. 

Learn  of  him,  also,  sympathy  with  every  race  and 
every  form  of  oppression.     No  matter  who  was  the 
sufferer,  or  what  the  form  of  the  injustice — starving 
15  Yorkshire   peasant,   imprisoned    Chartist,   persecuted 
Protestant,  or  negro  slave;  no  matter  of  what  right, 
personal  or  civil,  the  victim  had  been  robbed;  no  mat- 
ter what  religious  pretext  or  political  juggle  alleged 
"  necessity  "  as  an  excuse  for  his  oppression;  no  mat- 
so  ter  with  what  solemnities  he  had  been  devoted  on  the 
altar  of  slavery, — the  moment  O'Connell  saw  him,  the 
altar  and  the  god  sank  together  in  the  dust,  the  victim 
was  acknowledged  a  man  and  a  brother,  equal  in  all 
rights,  and  entitled  to  all  the  aid  the  great  Irishman 
25  could  give  him. 

I  have  no  time  to  speak  of  his  marvelous  success 
at  the  bar;  of  that  profound  skill  in  the  law  which 
enabled  him  to  conduct  such  an  agitation,  always  on 
the  verge  of  illegality  and  violence,  without  once  sub- 
3ojecting  himself  or  his  followers  to  legal  penalty — an 
agitation  under  a  code  of  which  Brougham  said,  "  No 
Catholic  could  lift  his  hand  under  it  without  breaking 
the  law."  I  have  no  time  to  speak  of  his  still  more 


DANIEL   ff  CON  NELL.  21 1 

remarkable  success  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Of 
Flood's  failure  there  Grattan  had  said,  "  He  was  an 
oak  of  the  forest,  too  old  and  too  great  to  be  trans- 
planted at  fifty."  Grattan's  own  success  there  was  but 
moderate.  The  power  O'Connell  wielded  against  5 
varied,  bitter,  and  unscrupulous  opposition  was 
marvelous.  I  have  no  time  to  speak  of  his  personal 
independence,  his  deliberate  courage,  moral  and  physi- 
cal, his  unspotted  private  character,  his  unfailing  hope, 
the  versatility  of  his  talent,  his  power  of  tireless  work,  10 
his  ingenuity  and  boundless  resource,  his  matchless 
self-possession  in  every  emergency,  his  ready  and  in- 
exhaustible wit;  but  any  reference  to  O'Connell  that 
omitted  his  eloquence  would  be  painting  Wellington 
in  the  House  of  Lords  without  mention  of  Torres  15 
Vedras  or  Waterloo. 

Broadly  considered,  his  eloquence  has  never  been 
equaled  in  modern  times,  certainly  not  in  English 
speech.  Do  you  think  I  am  partial?  I  will  vouch 
John  Randolph  of  Roanoke,  the  Virginia  slave-  20 
holder,  who  hated  an  Irishman  almost  as  much  as  he 
hated  a  Yankee,  himself  an  orator  of  no  mean  level. 
Hearing  O'Connell,  he  exclaimed,  "  This  is  the  man, 
these  are  the  lips,  the  most  eloquent  that  speak  Eng- 
lish in  my  day."  I  think  he  was  right.  I  remember  25 
the  solemnity  of  Webster,  the  grace  of  Everett,  the 
rhetoric  of  Choate;  I  know  the  eloquence  that  lay  hid 
in  the  iron  logic  of  Calhoun;  I  have  melted  beneath 
the  magnetism  of  Seargeant  S.  Prentiss  of  Mississippi, 
who  wielded  a  power  few  men  ever  had.  It  has  been  30 
my  fortune  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  the  great  speakers  of  the 
English  tongue  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean.  But  I 
think  all  of  them  together  never  surpassed,  and  no  one 


212  WENDELL   PHILLIPS. 

of  them  ever  equaled,  O'Connell.  Nature  intended 
him  for  our  Demosthenes.  Never  since  the  great 
Greek,  has  she  sent  forth  anyone  so  lavishly  gifted  for 
his  work  as  a  tribune  of  the  people.  In  the  first  place, 

5  he  had  a  magnificent  presence,  impressive  in  bearing, 
massive  like  that  of  Jupiter.  Webster  himself  hardly 
outdid  him  in  the  majesty  of  his  proportions.  To  be 
sure,  he  had  not  Webster's  craggy  face,  and  precipice 
of  brow,  nor  his  eyes  glowing  like  anthracite  coal ;  nor 

10  had  he  the  lion  roar  of  Mirabeau.  But  his  presence 
filled  the  eye.  A  small  O'Connell  would  hardly  have 
been  an  O'Connell  at  all.  These  physical  advantages 
are  half  the  battle. 

I   remember   Russell   Lowell   telling  us   that   Mr. 

15  Webster  came  home  from  Washington  at  the  time  the 
Whig  party  thought  of  dissolution  a  year  or  two  be- 
fore his  death,  and  went  down  to  Faneuil  Hall  to  pro- 
test; drawing  himself  up  to  his  loftiest  proportion,  his 
brow  clothed  with  thunder,  before  the  listening  thou- 

20  sands,  he  said,  "  Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  a  Whig,  a 
Massachusetts  Whig,  a  Faneuil-Hall  Whig,  a  revo- 
lutionary Whig,  a  constitutional  Whig.  If  you  break 
the  Whig  party,  sir,  where  am  I  to  go?  "  And  says 
Lowell,  "  We  held  our  breath,  thinking  where  he  could 

25  go.  If  he  had  been  five  feet  three,  we  should  have 
said,  '  Who  cares  where  you  go? ' '  So  it  was  with 
O'Connell.  There  was  something  majestic  in  his 
presence  before  he  spoke;  and  he  added  to  it  what 
Webster  had  not,  what  Clay  might  have  lent — in- 

30  finite  grace,  that  magnetism  that  melts  all  hearts  into 
one.  I  saw  him  at  over  sixty-six  years  of  age;  every 
attitude  was  beauty,  every  gesture  grace.  You  could 
only  think  of  a  greyhound  as  you  looked  at  him;  it 


DANIEL  O"  CON  NELL.  213 

would  have  been  delicious  to  have  watched  him,  if  he 
had  not  spoken  a  word.  Then  he  had  a  voice  that 
covered  the  gamut.  The  majesty  of  his  indignation, 
fitly  uttered  in  tones  of  superhuman  power,  made  him 
able  to  "  indict  "  a  nation,  in  spite  of  Burke's  protest.  5 

I  heard  him  once  say,  "  I  send  my  voice  across  the 
Atlantic,  careering  like  the  thunderstorm  against  the 
breeze,  to  tell  the  slave-holder  of  the  Carolinas  that 
God's  thunderbolts  are  hot,  and  to  remind  the  bond- 
man that  the  dawn  of  his  redemption  is  already  break- 10 
ing."  You  seemed  to  hear  the  tones  come  echoing 
back  to  London  from  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Then, 
with  the  slightest  possible  Irish  brogue,  he  would  tell 
a  story,  while  all  Exeter  Hall  shook  with  laughter. 
The  next  moment,  tears  in  his  voice  like  a  Scotch  15 
song,  five  thousand  men  wept.  And  all  the  while  no 
effort.  He  seemed  only  breathing. 

"  As  effortless  as  woodland  nooks 
Send  violets  up,  and  paint  them  blue." 

We  used  to  say  of  Webster,   "  This   is   a   great  20 
effort  " ;  of  Everett,  "  It  is  a  beautiful  effort  " ;  but  you 
never  used  the  word  "  effort  "  in  speaking  of  O'Con- 
nell.     It  provoked  you  that  he  would  not  make  an 
effort.     I  heard  him  perhaps  a  score  of  times,  and  I  do 
not  think  more  than  three  times  he  ever  lifted  himself  25 
to  the  full  sweep  of  his  power. 

And  this  wonderful  power,  it  was  not  a  thunder- 
storm: he  flanked  you  with  his  wit,  he  surprised  you 
out  of  yourself;  you  were  conquered  before  you  knew 
it.  He  was  once  summoned  to  court  out  of  the  hunt-  30 
ing-field,  when  a  young  friend  of  his  of  humble  birth 
was  on  trial  for  his  life.  The  evidence  gathered 
around  a  hat  found  by  the  body  of  the  murdered  man, 


214  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

which  was  recognized  as  the  hat  of  the  prisoner.  The 
lawyers  tried  to  break  down  the  evidence,  confuse  the 
testimony,  and  get  some  relief  from  the  directness  of 
the  circumstances;  but  in  vain,  until  at  last  they  called 
5  for  O'Connell.  He  came  in,  flung  his  riding-whip  and 
hat  on  the  table,  was  told  the  circumstances,  and  tak- 
ing up  the  hat  said  to  the  witness,  "  Whose  hat  is 
this?"  "Well,  Mr.  O'Connell,  that  is  Mike's  hat." 
"  How  do  you  know  it?  "  "  I  will  swear  to  it,  sir." 

10  "And  did  you  really  find  it  by  the  murdered  man?" 
"  I  did  that,  sir."  "  But  you're  not  ready  to  swear 
that?  "  "  I  am,  indeed,  Mr.  O'Connell."  "  Pat,  do 
you  know  what  hangs  on  your  word?  A  human  soul. 
And  with  that  dread  burden,  are  you  ready  to  tell  this 

15  jury  that  the  hat,  to  your  certain  knowledge,  belongs 
to  the  prisoner?"  "  Y-yes,  Mr.  O'Connell;  yes, 
I  am." 

O'Connell  takes  the  hat  to  the  nearest  window,  and 
peers  into  it — "  J-a-m-e-s,  James.     Now,  Pat,  did  you 

20  see  that  name  in  the  hat?  "     "  I  did,  Mr.  O'Connell." 

"  You  knew  it  was  there?  "    "  Yes,  sir;  I  read  it  after 

I  picked  it  up."     "  No  name  in  the  hat,  your  Honor." 

So  again  in  the  House  of  Commons.     When  he 

took  his  seat  in  the  House  of  1830,  the  London  Times 

25  visited  him  with  its  constant  indignation,  reported  his 
speeches  awry,  turned  them  inside  out,  and  made  non- 
sense of  them;  treated  him  as  the  New  York  Herald 
used  to  treat  us  Abolitionists  twenty  years  ago.  So 
one  morning  he  rose  and  said,  "Mr.  Speaker,  you  know 

30  I  have  never  opened  my  lips  in  this  house,  and  I  ex- 
pended twenty  years  of  hard  work  in  getting  the  right 
to  enter  it — I  have  never  lifted  my  voice  in  this  House, 
but  in  behalf  of  the  saddest  people  the  sun  shines  on. 


DANIEL   ff  CON  NELL.  215 

Is  it  fair  play,  Mr.  Speaker,  is  it  what  you  call  '  Eng- 
lish fair  play,'  that  the  press  of  this  city  will  not  let 
my  voice  be  heard?"  The  next  day  the  Times  sent 
him  word  that,  as  he  found  fault  with  their  manner  of 
reporting  him,  they  never  would  report  him  at  all,  5 
they  never  would  print  his  name  in  their  parliamentary 
columns.  So  the  next  day  when  prayers  were  ended, 
O'Connell  rose.  Those  reporters  of  the  Times  who 
were  in  the  gallery  rose  also,  ostentatiously  put  away 
their  pencils,  folded  their  arms,  and  made  all  the  show  10 
they  could,  to  let  everybody  know  how  it  was.  Well, 
you  know,  nobody  has  any  right  to  be  in  the  gallery 
during  the  session,  and  if  any  member  notices  them, 
the  mere  notice  clears  the  gallery;  only  the  reporters 
can  stay  after  that  notice.  O'Connell  rose.  One  of  15 
the  members  said,  "  Before  the  member  from  Clare 
opens  his  speech,  let  me  call  his  attention  to  the  gal- 
lery and  the  instance  of  that  '  passive  resistance ' 
which  he  is  about  to  preach."  "  Thank  you,"  said 
O'Connell:  "  Mr.  Speaker,  I  observe  strangers  in  the  20 
gallery."  Of  course  they  left;  of  course  the  next  day, 
in  the  columns  of  the  London  Times,  there  were  no 
parliamentary  debates.  And  for  the  first  time,  except 
in  Richard  Cobden's  case,  the  London  Times  cried  for 
quarter,  and  said  to  O'Connell,  "  If  you  give  up  the  25 
quarrel,  we  will." 

Later  down,  when  he  was  advocating  the  repeal  of 
the  land  law,  when  forty  or  fifty  thousand  people  were 
gathered  at  the  meeting,  O'Connell  was  sitting  at  the 
breakfast-table.  The  London  Times  for  that  year  had  30 
absolutely  disgraced  itself, — and  that  is  saying  a  great 
deal, — and  its  reporters,  if  recognized,  would  have 
been  torn  to  pieces.  So,  as  O'Connell  was  breakfast- 


2i6  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

ing,  the  door  opened,  and  two  or  three  English  re- 
porters— Gurney  and,  among  others,  our  well-known 
friend  Russell,  of  Bull  Run  notoriety — entered  the 
room  and  said,  "  Mr.  O'Connell,  we  are  the  reporters 

5  of  the  Times"     "  And,"  said  Russell,  "  we  dared  not 
enter  that  crowd." 

"  Shouldn't  think  you  would,"  replied  O'Connell. 
"  Have  you  had  any  breakfast?  " 

"No,  sir,"  said  he;  "we  hardly  dared  to  ask  for 

10  any." 

"  Shouldn't  think  you  would,"  answered  O'Connell; 
"  sit  down  here."  So  they  shared  his  breakfast. 
Then  he  took  Bull  Run  in  his  own  carriage  to  the 
place  of  meeting,  sent  for  a  table,  and  seated  him  by 

15  the  platform,  and  asked  him  whether  he  had  his  pen- 
cils well  sharpened  and  had  plenty  of  paper,  as  he  in- 
tended to  make  a  long  speech.  Bull  Run  answered, 
"  Yes."  And  O'Connell  stood  up,  and  addressed  the 
audience  in  Irish. 

20  His  marvelous  voice,  its  almost  incredible  power 
and  sweetness,  Bulwer  has  well  described: 

"  Once  to  my  sight  that  giant  form  was  given, 
Walled  by  wide  air,  and  roofed  by  boundless  heaven. 
Beneath  his  feet  the  human  ocean  lay, 

35  And  wave  on  wave  rolled  into  space  away. 

Methought  no  clarion  could  have  sent  its  sound 

Even  to  the  center  of  the  hosts  around ; 

And,  as  I  thought,  rose  the  sonorous  swell, 

As  from  some  church-tower  swings  the  silvery  bell. 

30  Aloft  and  clear,  from  airy  tide  to  tide 

It  glided,  easy  as  a  bird  may  glide  ; 
Even  to  the  verge  of  that  vast  audience  sent, 
It  played  with  each  wild  passion  as  it  went, — 
Now  stirred  the  uproar,  now  the  murmur  stilled, 

35  And  sobs  or  laughter  answered  as  it  willed." 


DANIEL   a  CON  NELL.  «I7 

Webster  could  awe  a  senate,  Everett  could  charm 
a  college,  and  Choate  could  cheat  a  jury;  Clay  could 
magnetize  the  million,  and  Corwin  led  them  captive. 
O'Connell  was  Clay,  Corwin,  Choate,  Everett,  and 
Webster  in  one.  Before  the  courts,  logic;  at  the  bar  5 
of  the  senate,  unanswerable  and  dignified;  on  the  plat- 
form, grace,  wit,  pathos;  before  the  masses,  a  whole 
man.  Carlyle  says,  "  He  is  God's  own  anointed  king 
whose  single  word  melts  all  wills  into  his."  This  de- 
scribes O'Connell.  Emerson  says,  "  There  is  no  true  10 
eloquence,  unless  there  is  a  man  behind  the  speech." 
Daniel  O'Connell  was  listened  to  because  all  England 
and  all  Ireland  knew  that  there  was  a  man  behind  the 
speech — one  who  could  be  neither  bought,  bullied,  nor 
cheated.  He  held  the  masses  free  but  willing  sub- 15 
jects  in  his  hand. 

He  owed  this  power  to  the  courage  that  met  every 
new  question  frankly,  and  concealed  none  of  his  con- 
victions; to  an  entireness  of  devotion  that  made  the 
people  feel  he  was  all  their  own;  to  a  masterly  brain  ao 
that  made  them  sure  they  were  always  safe  in  his 
hands.  Behind  them  were  ages  of  bloodshed:  every 
rising  had  ended  at  the  scaffold;  even  Grattan  brought 
them  to  1798.  O'Connell  said,  "  Follow  me:  put  your 
feet  where  mine  have  trod,  and  a  sheriff  shall  never  25 
lay  hand  on  your  shoulder."  And  the  great  lawyer 
kept  his  pledge. 

This  unmatched,  long-continued  power  almost 
passes  belief.  You  can  only  appreciate  it  by  com- 
parison. Let  me  carry  you  back  to  the  mob-year  of  30 
1835,  in  this  country,  when  the  Abolitionists  were 
hunted;  when  the  streets  roared  with  riot;  when  from 
Boston  to  Baltimore,  from  St.  Louis  to  Philadelphia, 


2i8  WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

a  mob  took  possession  of  every  city;  when  private 
houses  were  invaded  and  public  halls  were  burned; 
press  after  press  was  thrown  into  the  river;  and  Love- 
joy  baptized  freedom  with  his  blood.  You  remem- 
5  ber  it.  Respectable  journals  warned  the  mob  that 
they  were  playing  into  the  hands  of  the  Abolitionists. 
Webster  and  Clay  and  the  staff  of  Whig  statesmen 
told  the  people  that  the  truth  floated  farther  on  the 
shouts  of  the  mob  than  the  most  eloquent  lips  could 
10  carry  it.  But  law-abiding,  Protestant,  educated 
America  could  not  be  held  back.  Neither  Whig 
chiefs  nor  respectable  journals  could  keep  these  peo- 
ple quiet.  Go  to  England.  When  the  Reform  Bill 
of  1831  was  thrown  out  from  the  House  of  Lords,  the 
15  people  were  tumultuous;  and  Melbourne  and  Grey, 
Russell  and  Brougham,  Lansdowne,  Holland,  and 
Macaulay,  the  Whig  chiefs,  cried  out,  "  Don't  violate 
the  law:  you  help  the  Tories!  Riots  put  back  the 
bill."  But  quiet,  sober  John  Bull,  law-abiding,  could 
20  not  do  without  it.  Birmingham  was  three  days  in  the 
hands  of  a  mob;  castles  were  burned;  Wellington 
ordered  the  Scots  Greys  to  rough-grind  their  swords 
as  at  Waterloo.  This  was  the  Whig  aristocracy  of 
England.  O'Connell  had  neither  office  nor  title.  Be- 
ss hind  him  were  three  million  people  steeped  in  utter 
wretchedness,  sore  with  the  oppression  of  centuries, 
ignored  by  statute. 

For  thirty  restless  and  turbulent  years  he  stood  in 
front  of  them,  and  said,  "  Remember,  he  that  com- 
30  mits  a  crime  helps  the  enemy."  And  during  that  long 
and  fearful  struggle,  I  do  not  remember  one  of  his 
followers  ever  being  convicted  of  a  political  offense, 
and  during  this  period  crimes  of  violence  were  very 


DANIEL   ff  CON  NELL.  219 

rare.  There  is  no  such  record  in  our  history. 
Neither  in  classic  nor  in  modern  times  can  the  man 
be  produced  who  held  a  million  of  people  in  his  right 
hand  so  passive.  It  was  due  to  the  consistency  and 
unity  of  a  character  that  had  hardly  a  flaw.  I  do  not  5 
forget  your  soldiers,  orators,  or  poets — any  of  your 
leaders.  But  when  I  consider,  O'Connell's  personal 
disinterestedness, — his  rare,  brave  fidelity  to  every 
cause  his  principles  covered,  no  matter  how  unpopu- 
lar, or  how  embarrassing  to  his  main  purpose, — that  10 
clear,  far-reaching  vision,  and  true  heart  which,  on 
most  moral  and  political  questions,  set  him  so  much 
ahead  of  his  times;  his  eloquence,  almost  equally  effect- 
ive in  the  courts,  in  the  senate,  and  before  the  masses; 
that  sagacity  which  set  at  naught  the  malignant  vigi- 15 
lance  of  the  whole  imperial  bar,  watching  thirty  years 
for  a  misstep;  when  I  remember  that  he  invented  his 
tools,  and  then  measure  his  limited  means  with  his 
vast  success,  bearing  in  mind  its  nature;  when  I  see 
the  sobriety  and  moderation  with  which  he  used  his  20 
measureless  power,  and  the  lofty,  generous  purpose  of 
his  whole  life, — I  am  ready  to  affirm  that  he  was,  all 
things  considered,  the  greatest  man  the  Irish  race 
ever  produced. 


THE  COMMEMORATIVE  ORATION. 

CHAUNCEY  M.  DEPEW. 

Born  1834. 

THE  ONE  HUNDREDTH  ANNIVERSARY  OF 
THE  INAUGURATION  OF  PRESIDENT 
WASHINGTON. 

[The  one  hundreth  anniversary  of  the  inauguration  of  President 
Washington  was  celebrated  in  New  York  City,  April  29  and  30  and 
May  i,  1889,  with  appropriate  ceremonies.  The  first  of  these  days 
was  devoted  to  a  naval  parade  and  a  ball  given  at  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House.  On  the  morning  of  the  second,  after  services  in  St. 
Paul's  Chapel,  which  Washington  had  attended  before  he  was  in- 
augurated, literary  exercises  were  held  on  the  site  of  the  old  Federal 
Hall,  where  the  oath  of  office  had  been  administered.  In  the  after- 
noon there  was  a  great  land  parade  of  soldiery  and  in  the  evening  a 
banquet  given  by  the  city  to  the  visiting  guests,  who  included  the 
President  and  Vice-President  of  the  United  States,  two  ex-Presidents, 
the  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court,  and  the  governors  of  many  States. 
At  the  literary  exercises  of  this  day,  after  the  reading  of  a  poem 
written  for  the  occasion  by  Whittier,  Mr.  Depew  delivered  this 
oration. 

The  oration  is  here  reprinted,  through  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Depew 
and  with  the  permission  of  the  Cassell  Publishing  Company,  from  Mr. 
Depew's  Orations  and  After-Dinner  Speeches.] 

We  celebrate  to-day  the  Centenary  of  our  Nation- 
ality.    One  hundred  years  ago  the  United  States  be- 
gan their  existence.     The  powers  of  government  were 
assumed  by  the  people  of  the   Republic,   and  they 
5  became  the  sole  source  of  authority.    The  solemn  cere- 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  221 

monial  of  the  first  inauguration,  the  reverent  oath  of 
Washington,  the  acclaim  of  the  multitude  greeting 
their  President,  marked  the  most  unique  event  of 
modern  times  in  the  development  of  free  institutions. 

The  occasion  was  not  an  accident,  but  a  result.     It  5 
was  the  culmination  of  the  working  out,  by  mighty 
forces  through  many  centuries,  of  the  problem  of  self- 
government.     It  was  not  the  triumph  of  a  system,  the 
application  of  a  theory,  or  the  reduction  to  practice  of 
the  abstractions  of  philosophy.     The  time,  the  coun- 10 
try,  the  heredity  and  environment  of  the  people,  and 
the  folly  of  its  enemies,  and  the  noble  courage  of  its 
friends,  gave  to  liberty,  after  ages  of  defeat,  of  trial,  of 
experiment,  of  partial  success  and  substantial  gains, 
this  immortal  victory.     Henceforth  it  had  a  refuge  and  15 
recruiting  station.     The  oppressed  found  free  homes 
in  this  favored  land,  and  invisible  armies  marched  from 
it  by  mail  and  telegraph,  by  speech  and  song,  by  pre- 
cept and  example,  to  regenerate  the  world. 

Puritans  in  New  England,  Dutchmen  in  New  York,  20 
Catholics  in  Maryland,  Huguenots  in  South  Carolina, 
had  felt  the  fires  of  persecution  and  were  wedded  to 
religious  liberty.     They  had  been  purified  in  the  fur- 
nace, and  in  high  debate  and  on  bloody  battle-fields 
had  learned  to  sacrifice  all  material  interests  and  to  25 
peril  their  lives  for  human  rights.     The  principles  of 
constitutional  government  had  been  impressed  upon 
them  by  hundreds  of  years  of  struggle,  aqd  for  each 
principle  they  could  point  to  the  grave  of  an  ancestor 
whose  death  attested  the  ferocity  of  the  fight  and  the  30 
value  of  the  concession  wrung  from  arbitrary  power. 
They  knew  the  limitations  of  authority;  they  could 
pledge  their  lives  and  fortunes  to  resist   encroach- 


222  CNAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

ments  upon  their  rights;  but  it  required  the  lesson  of 
Indian  massacres,  the  invasion  of  the  armies  of  France 
from  Canada,  the  tyranny  of  the  British  Crown,  the 
seven  years'  war  of  the  Revolution,  and  the  five  years 
5  of  chaos  of  the  Confederation,  to  evolve  the  idea  upon 
which  rest  the  power  and  permanency  of  the  Republic, 
that  liberty  and  union  are  one  and  inseparable. 

The  traditions  and  experience  of  the  colonists  had 
made  them  alert  to  discover,  and  quick  to  resist,  any 

;o  peril  to  their  liberties.  Above  all  things,  they  feared 
and  distrusted  power.  The  town  meeting  and  the 
colonial  legislature  gave  them  confidence  in  them- 
selves and  courage  to  check  the  royal  governors. 
Their  interests,  hopes,  and  affections  were  in  their 

15  several  commonwealths,  and  each  blow  by  the  British 
Ministry  at  their  freedom,  each  attack  upon  their 
rights  as  Englishmen,  weakened  their  love  for  the 
Motherland  and  intensified  their  hostility  to  the 
Crown.  But  the  same  causes  which  broke  down  their 

20  allegiance  to  the  Central  Government  increased  their 
confidence  in  their  respective  colonies,  and  their  faith 
in  liberty  was  largely  dependent  upon  the  maintenance 
of  the  sovereignty  of  their  several  States.  The 
farmer's  shot  at  Lexington  echoed  round  the  world; 

25  the  spirit  which  it  awakened  from  its  slumbers  could 
do  and  dare  and  die;  but  it  had  not  yet  discovered 
the  secret  of  the  permanence  and  progress  of  free 
institutions.  Patrick  Henry  thundered  in  the  Vir- 
ginia convention;  James  Otis  spoke  with  trumpet 

30  tongue  and  fervid  eloquence  for  united  action  in 
Massachusetts;  Hamilton,  Jay,  and  Clinton  pledged 
New  York  to  respond  with  men  and  money  for  the 
common  cause;  but  their  vision  only  saw  a  league  of 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  223 

independent  colonies.  The  veil  was  not  yet  drawn 
from  before  the  vista  of  population  and  power,  of  em- 
pire and  liberty,  which  would  open  with  National 
Union. 

The   Continental   Congress   partially   grasped,   but   5 
completely  expressed,  the  central  idea  of  the  American 
Republic.     More  fully  than  any  other  that  ever  assem- 
bled did  it  represent  the  victories  won  from  arbitrary 
power  for  human  rights.     In  the  New  World  it  was 
the  conservator  of  liberties  secured  through  centuries  10 
of  struggle  in  the  Old.    Among  the  delegates  were  the 
descendants  of  the  men  who  had  stood  in  the  brilliant 
array  upon  the  field  of  Runnymede,  which  wrested 
from  King  John  Magna  Charta,  that  great  charter  of 
liberty,  to  which  Hallam,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  15 
bears  witness  "  that  all  which  has  been  since  obtained 
is  little  more  than  a  confirmation  or  commentary." 
There  were  the  grandchildren  of  the  statesmen  who 
had  summoned  Charles  before  Parliament  and  com- 
pelled his  assent  to  the  Petition  of  Rights  which  trans-  20 
ferred  power  from  the  Crown  to  the  Commons,  and 
gave  representative  government  to  the  English-speak- 
ing race.    And  there  were  those  who  had  sprung  from 
the  iron  soldiers  who  had  fought  and  charged  with 
Cromwell  at  Naseby  and  Dunbar  and  Marston  Moor.  25 
Among  its  members  were  Huguenots,  whose  fathers 
had  followed  the  White  Plume  of  Henry  of  Navarre, 
and  in  an  age  of  bigotry,  intolerance,  and  the  deifica- 
tion of  absolutism,  had  secured  the  great  edict  of  reli- 
gious liberty  from  French  despotism,  and  who  had  30 
become  a  people  without  a  country  rather  than  sur- 
render their  convictions  and  forswear  their  consciences. 
In  this  Congress  were  those  whose  ancestors  were 


224  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

the  countrymen  of  William  of  Orange,  the  Beg- 
gars of  the  Sea,  who  had  survived  the  cruelties  of  Alva 
and  broken  the  yoke  of  proud  Philip  of  Spain,  and  who 
had  two  centuries  before  made  a  declaration  of  inde- 

5  pendence  and   formed   a   federal   union   which   were 
models  of  freedom  and  strength. 

These  men  were  not  revolutionists,  they  were  the 
heirs  and  the  guardians  of  the  priceless  treasures  of 
mankind.  The  British  King  and  his  Ministers  were 

10  the  revolutionists.  They  were  reactionaries,  seeking 
arbitrarily  to  turn  back  the  hands  upon  the  dial  of 
time.  A  year  of  doubt  and  debate,  the  baptism  of 
blood  upon  the  battle-fields,  where  soldiers  from  every 
colony  fought  under  a  common  standard,  and  con- 

15  solidated  the  Continental  Army,  gradually  lifted  the 
soul  and  understanding  of  this  immortal  Congress  to 
the  sublime  declaration:  "We,  therefore,  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  United  States  of  America,  in  Gen- 
eral Congress  assembled,  appealing  to  the  Supreme 

20  Judge  of  the  World  for  the  rectitude  of  our  intentions, 
do,  in  the  name  and  by  the  authority  of  the  good  peo- 
ple of  these  colonies,  solemnly  publish  and  declare 
that  these  United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to 
be,  free  and  independent  States." 

25  To  this  Declaration  John  Hancock,  proscribed  and 
threatened  with  death,  affixed  a  signature  which  has 
stood  for  a  century  like  the  pointers  to  the  North  Star 
in  the  firmament  of  freedom,  and  Charles  Carroll, 
taunted  that,  among  many  Carrolls,  he,  the  richest 

30  man  in  America,  might  escape,  added  description  and 
identification  with  "  of  Carrollton."  Benjamin  Har- 
rison, a  delegate  from  Virginia,  the  ancestor  of  the  dis- 
tinguished statesman  and  soldier  who  to-day  so 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  225 

worthily  fills  the  chair  of  Washington,  voiced  the  un- 
alterable determination  and  defiance  of  the  Congress. 
He  seized  John  Hancock,  upon  whose  head  a  price 
was  set,  in  his  arms,  and  placing  him  in  the  Presiden- 
tial chair,  said:  "We  will  show  Mother  Britain  how  5 
little  we  care  for  her,  by  making  our  President  a 
Massachusetts  man,  whom  she  has  excluded  from 
pardon  by  public  proclamation  " ;  and  when  they  were 
signing  the  Declaration,  and  the  slender  Elbridge 
Gerry  uttered  the  grim  pleasantry,  "  We  must  hang  10 
together,  or  surely  we  will  hang  separately,"  the 
portly  Harrison  responded  with  the  more  daring 
humor,  "  It  will  be  all  over  with  me  in  a  moment; 
but  you  will  be  kicking  in  the  air  half  an  hour  after 
I  am  gone."  Thus  flashed  athwart  the  great  Charter,  15 
which  was  to  be  for  its  signers  a  death-warrant  or  a 
diploma  of  immortality,  as  with  firm  hand,  high  pur- 
pose, and  undaunted  resolution,  they  subscribed  their 
names,  this  mockery  of  fear  and  the  penalties  of 
treason.  20 

The  grand  central  idea  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence was  the  sovereignty  of  the  People.  It  re- 
lied for  original  power,  not  upon  States  or  colonies, 
or  their  citizens  as  such,  but  recognized  as  the  au- 
thority for  nationality  the  revolutionary  rights  of  the  25 
people  of  the  United  States.  It  stated  with  marvelous 
clearness  the  encroachments  upon  liberties  which 
threatened  their  suppression  and  justified  revolt,  but 
it  was  inspired  by  the  very  genius  of  freedom,  and  the 
prophetic  possibilities  of  united  commonwealths  y 
covering  the  continent  in  one  harmonious  republic, 
when  it  made  the  people  of  the  thirteen  colonies  all 
Americans,  and  devolved  upon  them  to  administer, 


226  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

by  themselves  and  for  themselves,  the  prerogatives 
and  powers  wrested  from  Crown  and  Parliament.  It 
condensed  Magna  Charta,  the  Petition  of  Rights,  the 
great  body  of  English  liberties  embodied  in  the  com- 
5  mon  law  and  accumulated  in  the  decisions  of  the 
courts,  the  statutes  of  the  realm,  and  an  undisputed 
though  unwritten  Constitution;  but  this  original 
principle  and  dynamic  force  of  the  people's  power 
sprang  from  these  old  seeds  planted  in  the  virgin  soil 

10  of  the  New  World. 

More  clearly  than  any  statesman  of  the  period  did 
Thomas  Jefferson  grasp  and  divine  the  possibilities  of 
popular  government.  He  caught  and  crystallized  the 
spirit  of  free  institutions.  His  philosophical  mind 

15  was  singularly  free  from  the  power  of  precedents  or 
the  chains  of  prejudice.  He  had  an  unquestioning 
and  abiding  faith  in  the  people,  which  was  accepted 
by  but  few  of  his  compatriots.  Upon  his  famous 
axiom  of  the  equality  of  all  men  before  the  law,  he 

20  constructed  his  system.  It  was  the  trip-hammer 
essential  for  the  emergency  to  break  the  links  binding 
the  colonies  to  imperial  authority,  and  to  pulverize  the 
privileges  of  caste.  It  inspired  him  to  write  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  and  persuaded  him  to 

25  doubt  the  wisdom  of  the  powers  concentrated  in  the 
Constitution.  In  his  passionate  love  of  liberty  he  be- 
came intensely  jealous  of  authority.  He  destroyed  the 
substance  of  royal  prerogative,  but  never  emerged 
from  its  shadow.  He  would  have  the  States  as  the 

30  guardians  of  popular  rights,  and  the  barriers  against 
centralization,  and  he  saw  in  the  growing  power  of 
the  nation  ever-increasing  encroachments  upon  the 
rights  of  the  people.  For  the  success  of  the  pure  de- 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  227 

mocracy  which  must  precede  presidents  and  cabinets 
and  congresses,  it  was  perhaps  providential  that  its 
apostle  never  believed  a  great  people  could  grant  and 
still  retain,  could  give  and  at  will  reclaim,  could  dele- 
gate and  yet  firmly  hold,  the  authority  which  ulti-  5 
mately  created  the  power  of  their  republic  and 
enlarged  the  scope  of  their  own  liberty. 

Where  this  master-mind  halted,  all  stood  still.  The 
necessity  for  a  permanent  union  was  apparent;  but 
each  State  must  have  hold  upon  the  bowstring  which  10 
encircled  its  throat.  It  was  admitted  that  union  gave 
the  machinery  required  to  successfully  fight  the  com- 
mon enemy;  but  yet  there  was  fear  that  it  might  be- 
come a  Frankenstein  and  destroy  its  creators.  Thus 
patriotism  and  fear,  difficulties  of  communication  be-  15 
tween  distant  communities,  and  the  intense  growth  of 
provincial  pride  and  interests,  led  this  Congress  to 
frame  the  Articles  of  Confederation,  happily  termed 
the  League  of  Friendship  The  result  was  not  a  gov- 
ernment, but  a  ghost.  By  this  scheme  the  American  20 
people  were  ignored  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence reversed.  The  States,  by  their  legislatures, 
elected  delegates  to  Congress,  and  the  delegate  repre- 
sented the  sovereignty  of  his  commonwealth. 

All  the  States  had  an  equal  voice,  without  regard  to  25 
their  size  or  population.     It  required  the  vote  of  nine 
States  to  pass  any  bill,  and  five  could  block  the  wheels 
of  government.     Congress  had  none  of  the  powers 
essential  to  sovereignty.     It  could  neither  levy  taxes 
nor  impose  duties  nor  collect  excise.     For  the  support  30 
of  the  Army  and  Navy,  for  the  purposes  of  war,  for  the 
preservation  of  its  own  functions,  it  could  only  call 
upon  the  States,  but  it  possessed  no  power  to  enforce 


228  CHAUNCEY  M,  DEPEW. 

its  demands.  It  had  no  president  or  executive  au- 
thority, no  supreme  court  with  general  jurisdiction, 
and  no  national  power.  Each  of  the  thirteen  States 
had  seaports  and  levied  discriminating  duties  against 
5  the  others,  and  could  also  tax  and  thus  prohibit  inter- 
state commerce  across  its  territory.  Had  the  Confed- 
eration been  a  Union  instead  of  a  League,  it  could 
have  raised  and  equipped  three  times  the  number  of 
men  contributed  by  reluctant  States,  and  conquered 

10  independence  without  foreign  assistance.  This  para- 
lyzed government — without  strength,  because  it  could 
not  enforce  its  decrees;  without  credit,  because  it 
could  pledge  nothing  for  the  payment  of  its  debts; 
without  respect,  because  without  inherent  authority — 

15  would,  by  its  feeble  life  and  early  death,  have  added 
another  to  the  historic  tragedies  which  have  in  many 
lands  marked  the  suppression  of  freedom,  had  it  not 
been  saved  by  the  intelligent,  inherited,  and  invincible 
understanding  of  liberty  by  the  people,  and  the  genius 

20  and  patriotism  of  their  leaders. 

But  while  the  perils  of  war  had  given  temporary 
strength  to  the  Confederation,  peace  developed  its 
fatal  weakness.  It  derived  no  authority  from  the  peo- 
ple, and  could  not  appeal  to  them.  Anarchy  threat- 

25  ened  its  existence  at  home,  and  contempt  met  its 
representatives  abroad. 

"  Can  you  fulfill  or  enforce  the  obligations  of  the 
treaty  on  your  part  if  we  sign  one  with  you?  "  was  the 
sneer  of  the  courts  of  the  Old  World  to  our  ambassa- 

30  dors.  Some  States  gave  a  half-hearted  support  to  its 
demands;  others  defied  them.  The  loss  of  public 
credit  was  speedily  followed  by  universal  bankruptcy. 
The  wildest  fantasies  assumed  the  force  of  serious 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION  2*9 

measures  for  the  relief  of  the  general  distress.  States 
passed  exclusive  and  hostile  laws  against  each  other, 
and  riot  and  disorder  threatened  the  disintegration  of 
society.  "  Our  stock  is  stolen,  our  houses  are  plun- 
dered, our  farms  are  raided,"  cried  a  delegate  in  the  5 
Massachusetts  convention;  "despotism  is  better  than 
anarchy!  "  To  raise  four  millions  of  dollars  a  year 
was  beyond  the  resources  of  the  Government,  and 
three  hundred  thousand  was  the  limit  of  the  loan  it 
could  secure  from  the  money-lenders  of  Europe,  to 
Even  Washington  exclaimed  in  despair:  "  I  see  one 
head  gradually  changing  into  thirteen ;  I  see  one  army 
gradually  branching  into  thirteen;  which,  instead  of 
looking  up  to  Congress  as  the  supreme  controlling 
power,  are  considering  themselves  as  depending  on  15 
their  respective  States."  And  later,  when  independ- 
ence had  been  won,  the  impotency  of  the  Government 
wrung  from  him  the  exclamation :  "  After  gloriously 
and  successfully  contending  against  the  usurpation  of 
Great  Britain,  we  may  fall  a  prey  to  our  own  folly  and  20 
disputes." 

But  even  through  this  Cimmerian  darkness  shot  a 
flame  which  illumined  the  coming  century,  and  kept 
bright  the  beacon-fires  of  liberty.  The  architects  of 
constitutional  freedom  formed  their  institutions  with  25 
wisdom  which  forecasted  the  future.  They  may  not 
have  understood  at  first  the  whole  truth;  but,  for  that 
which  they  knew,  they  had  the  martyrs'  spirit  and  the 
crusaders'  enthusiasm.  Though  the  Confederation 
was  a  government  of  checks  without  balances,  and  of  30 
purpose  without  power,  the  statesmen  who  guided  it 
demonstrated  often  the  resistless  force  of  great  souls 
animated  by  the  purest  patriotism;  and  united  in 


CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

judgment  and  effort  to  promote  the  common  good,  by 
lofty  appeals  and  high  reasoning,  to  elevate  the  masses 
above  local  greed  and  apparent  self-interest  to  their 
own  broad  plane. 

5  The  most  significant  triumph  of  these  moral  and  in- 
tellectual forces  was  that  which  secured  the  assent  of 
the  States  to  the  limitation  of  their  boundaries,  to  the 
grant  of  the  wilderness  beyond  them  to  the  General 
Government,  and  to  the  insertion  in  the  ordinance 

10  erecting  the  Northwest  Territory  of  the  immortal  pro- 
viso prohibiting  "  slavery  or  involuntary  servitude  " 
within  all  that  broad  domain.  The  States  carved  out 
of  this  splendid  concession  were  not  sovereignties 
which  had  successfully  rebelled,  but  they  were  the 

15  children  of  the  Union,  born  of  the  covenant  and 
thrilled  with  its  life  and  liberty.  They  became  the 
bulwarks  of  nationality  and  the  buttresses  of  freedom. 
Their  preponderating  strength  first  checked  and  then 
broke  the  slave  power;  their  fervid  loyalty  halted  and 

20  held  at  bay  the  spirit  of  State  rights  and  secession  for 
generations;  and  when  the  crisis  came,  it  was  with 
their  overwhelming  assistance  that  the  nation  killed 
and  buried  its  enemy.  The  corner  stone  of  the  edi- 
fice whose  centenary  we  are  celebrating  was  the  Ordi- 

25  nance  of  1787.  It  was  constructed  by  the  feeblest  of 
congresses,  but  few  enactments  of  ancient  or  modern 
times  have  had  more  far-reaching  and  beneficent  in- 
fluence. It  is  one  of  the  sublimest  paradoxes  of  his- 
tory that  this  weak  Confederation  of  States  should 

30  have  welded  the  chain  against  which,  after  seventy- 
four  years  of  fretful  efforts  for  release,  its  own  spirit 
frantically  dashed  and  died. 

The  government  of  the  Republic  by  a  Congress  of 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  231 

States,  a  diplomatic  convention  of  the  ambassadors  of 
petty  commonwealths,  after  seven  years'  trial,  was  fall- 
ing asunder.  Threatened  with  civil  war  among  its 
members,  insurrection  and  lawlessness  rife  within  the 
States,  foreign  commerce  ruined  and  internal  trade  5 
paralyzed,  its  currency  worthless,  its  merchants  bank- 
rupt, its  farms  mortgaged,  its  markets  closed,  its  labor 
unemployed,  it  was  like  a  helpless  wreck  upon  the 
ocean,  tossed  about  by  the  tides  and  ready  to  be  en- 
gulfed in  the  storm.  Washington  gave  the  warning  10 
and  called  for  action.  It  was  a  voice  accustomed  to 
command,  but  not  entreat.  The  veterans  of  the  war 
and  the  statesmen  of  the  Revolution  stepped  to  the 
front.  The  patriotism  which  had  been  misled,  but 
had  never  faltered,  rose  above  the  interests  of  the  15 
States  and  the  jealousies  of  jarring  confederates  to 
find  the  basis  for  union.  "  It  is  clear  to  me  as  A  B  C," 
said  Washington,  "  that  an  extension  of  federal 
powers  would  make  us  one  of  the  most  happy, 
wealthy,  respectable,  and  powerful  nations  that  ever  20 
inhabited  the  terrestrial  globe.  Without  them  we 
shall  soon  be  everything  which  is  the  direct  reverse. 
I  predict  the  worst  consequences  from  a  half-starved, 
limping  government,  always  moving  upon  crutches 
and  tottering  at  every  step."  The  response  of  the  25 
country  was  the  Convention  of  1787,  at  Philadelphia. 
The  Declaration  of  Independence  was  but  the  vesti- 
bule of  the  temple  which  this  illustrious  assembly 
erected.  With  no  successful  precedents  to  guide,  it 
auspiciously  worked  out  the  problem  of  constitutional  30 
government,  and  of  imperial  power  and  home  rule  sup- 
plementing each  other  in  promoting  the  grandeur  of 
the  nation  and  preserving  the  liberty  of  the  individual. 


23 2  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

The  deliberations  of  great  councils  have  vitally 
affected,  at  different  periods,  the  history  of  the  world 
and  the  fate  of  empires;  but  this  Congress  builded, 
upon  popular  sovereignty,  institutions  broad  enough 

5  to  embrace  the  continent,  and  elastic  enough  to  fit  all 
conditions  of  race  and  traditions.  The  experience  of 
a  hundred  years  has  demonstrated  for  us  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  work  for  defense  against  foreign  foes,  and 
for  self-preservation  against  domestic  insurrection,  for 

10  limitless  expansion  in  population  and  material  de- 
velopment, and  for  steady  growth  in  intellectual  free- 
dom and  force.  Its  continuing  influence  upon  the 
welfare  and  destiny  of  the  human  race  can  only  be 
measured  by  the  capacity  of  man  to  cultivate  and  en- 

15  joy  the  boundless  opportunities  of  liberty  and  law. 
The  eloquent  characterization  of  Mr.  Gladstone  con- 
denses its  merits :  "  The  American  Constitution  is  the 
most  wonderful  work  ever  struck  off  at  a  given  time 
by  the  brain  and  purpose  of  man." 

20  The  statesmen  who  composed  this  great  senate  were 
equal' to  their  trust.  Their  conclusions  were  the  re- 
sult of  calm  debate  and  wise  concession.  Their  char- 
acter and  abilities  were  so  pure  and  great  as  to  com- 
mand the  confidence  of  the  country  for  the  reversal 

25  of  the  policy  of  the  independence  of  the  State  of  the 
power  of  the  General  Government,  which  had  hitherto 
been  the  invariable  practice  and  almost  universal 
opinion,  and  for  the  adoption  of  the  idea  of  the  nation 
and  its  supremacy. 

30  Towering  in  majesty  and  influence  above  them  all 
stood  Washington,  their  president.  Beside  him  was 
the  venerable  Franklin,  who,  though  eighty-one  years 
of  age,  brought  to  the  deliberation  of  the  Convention 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  233 

the  unimpaired  vigor  and  resources  of  the  wisest  brain, 
the  most  hopeful  philosophy,  and  the  largest  experi- 
ence of  the  times.  Oliver  Ellsworth,  afterward  Chief 
Justice  of  the  United  States,  and  the  profoundest  jurist 
in  the  country;  Robert  Morris,  the  wonderful  financier  5 
of  the  Revolution,  and  Gouverneur  Morris,  the  most 
versatile  genius  of  his  period ;  Roger  Sherman,  one  of 
the  most  eminent  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  and  John  Rutledge,  Rufus  King,  El- 
bridge  Gerry,  Edmund  Randolph,  and  the  Pinckneys,  10 
were  leaders  of  unequaled  patriotism,  courage,  ability, 
and  learning;  while  Alexander  Hamilton  and  James 
Madison,  as  original  thinkers  and  constructive  states- 
men, rank  among  the  immortal  few  whose  opinions 
have  for  ages  guided  ministers  of  state,  and  deter-  15 
mined  the  destinies  of  nations. 

This  great  convention  keenly  felt,  and  with  devout 
and  serene  intelligence  met  its  tremendous  responsi- 
bilities. It  had  the  moral  support  of  the  few  whose 
aspirations  for  liberty  had  been  inspired  or  renewed  20 
by  the  triumph  of  the  American  Revolution,  and  the 
active  hostility  of  every  government  in  the  world. 

There  were  no  examples  to  follow,  and  the  experi- 
ence of  its  members  led  part  of  them  to  lean  toward 
absolute  centralization  as  the  only  refuge  from  the  25 
anarchy  of  the  Confederation,  while  the  rest  clung  to 
the  sovereignty  of  the  States,  for  fear  that  the  concen- 
tration of  power  would  end  in  the  absorption  of  lib- 
erty. The  large  States  did  not  want  to  surrender  the 
advantage  of  their  position,  and  the  smaller  States  saw  30 
the  danger  to  their  existence.  The  Leagues  of  the 
Greek  cities  had  ended  in  loss  of  freedom,  tyranny, 
conquest,  and  destruction.  Roman  conquest  and 


234  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

assimilation  had  strewn  the  shores  of  time  with  the 
wrecks  of  empires,  and  plunged  civilization  into  the 
perils  and  horrors  of  the  Dark  Ages.  The  govern- 
ment of  Cromwell  was  the  isolated  power  of  the 
5  mightiest  man  of  his  age,  without  popular  authority 
to  fill  his  place  or  the  hereditary  principle  to  protect 
his  successor. 

The  past  furnished  no  light  for  our  state-builders; 
the  present  was  full  of  doubt  and  despair.     The  future, 

10  the  experiment  of  self-government,  the  perpetuity  and 
development  of  freedom,  almost  the  destiny  of  man- 
kind, was  in  their  hands. 

At  this  crisis  the  courage  and  confidence  needed  to 
originate  a  system  weakened.     The  temporizing  spirit 

15  of  compromise  seized  the  Convention,  with  the  allur- 
ing proposition  of  not  proceeding  faster  than  the  peo- 
ple could  be  educated  to  follow.  The  cry,  "  Let  us 
not  waste  our  labor  upon  conclusions  which  will  not 
be  adopted,  but  amend  and  adjourn,"  was  assuming 

20  startling  unanimity.  But  the  supreme  force  and 
majestic  sense  of  Washington  brought  the  assemblage 
to  the  lofty  plane  of  its  duty  and  opportunity.  He 
said :  "  It  is  too  probable  that  no  plan  we  propose  will 
be  adopted.  Perhaps  another  dreadful  conflict  is  to 

25  be  sustained.  If  to  please  the  people  we  offer  what 
we  ourselves  disapprove,  how  can  we  afterward  de- 
fend our  work?  Let  us  raise  a  standard  to  which  the 
wise  and  honest  can  repair;  the  event  is  in  the  hands  of 
God."  "  I  am  the  state,"  said  Louis  XIV.;  but  his 

30  line  ended  in  the  grave  of  absolutism.  "  Forty  cen- 
turies look  down  upon  you,"  was  Napoleon's  address 
to  his  army,  in  the  shadow  of  the  Pyramids;  but  his 
soldiers  saw  the  dream  of  Eastern  Empire  vanish  in 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  *35 

blood.  Statesmen  and  parliamentary  leaders  have 
sunk  into  oblivion,  or  led  their  party  to  defeat,  by 
surrendering  their  convictions  to  the  passing  passions 
of  the  hour;  but  Washington,  in  his  immortal  speech, 
struck  the  keynote  of  representative  obligation,  and  5 
propounded  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  purity 
and  perpetuity  of  constitutional  government. 

Freed  from  the  limitations  of  its  environment,  and 
the  question  of  the  adoption  of  its  work,  the  Conven- 
tion erected  its  government  upon  the  eternal  founda- 10 
tions  of  the  power  of  the  people. 

It  dismissed  the  delusive  theory  of  a  compact  be- 
tween independent  States,  and  derived  national  power 
from  the  people  of  the  United  States.  It  broke  up  the 
machinery  of  the  Confederation,  and  put  in  practical  15 
operation  the  glittering  generalities  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  From  chaos  came  order,  from  inse- 
curity came  safety,  from  disintegration  and  civil  war 
came  law  and  liberty,  with  the  principle  proclaimed  in 
the  preamble  of  the  great  charter:  "  We,  the  people  of  20 
the  United  States,  in  order  to  form  a  more  perfect 
union,  establish  justice,  insure  domestic  tranquillity, 
provide  for  the  common  defense,  promote  the  general 
welfare,  and  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty  to  our- 
selves and  our  posterity,  do  ordain  and  establish  this  25 
Constitution  for  the  United  States."  With  a  wisdom 
inspired  of  God,  to  work  out  upon  this  continent  the 
liberty  of  man,  they  solved  the  problem  of  the  ages  by 
blending,  and  yet  preserving,  local  self-government 
with  national  authority,  and  the  rights  of  the  States  30 
with  the  majesty  and  power  of  the  Republic.  The 
government  of  the  States,  under  the  Articles  of  the 
Confederation,  became  bankrupt  because  it  could  not 


236  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

raise  four  millions  of  dollars;  the  government  of  the 
Union,  under  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
raised  six  thousand  millions  of  dollars,  its  credit  grow- 
ing firmer  as  its  power  and  resources  were  demon- 
5  strated.  The  Congress  of  the  Confederation  fled 
from  a  regiment  which  it  could  not  pay;  the  Congress 
of  the  Union  reviewed  the  comrades  of  a  million  of  its 
victorious  soldiers,  saluting  as  they  marched  the  flag 
of  the  nation  whose  supremacy  they  had  sustained. 

10  The  promises  of  the  Confederacy  were  the  scoff  of  its 
States;  the  pledge  of  the  Republic  was  the  honor  of 
its  people. 

The  Constitution,  which  was  to  be  strengthened  by 
the  strain  of  a  century,  to  be  a  mighty  conqueror  writh- 

15  out  a  subject  .province,  to  triumphantly  survive  the 
greatest  of  civil  wars  without  the  confiscation  of  an 
estate  or  the  execution  of  a  political  offender,  to  create 
and  grant  home  rule  and  state  sovereignty  to  twenty- 
nine  additional  commonwealths,  and  yet  enlarge  its 

20  scope  and  broaden  its  power,  and  to  make  the  name 
of  an  American  citizen  a  title  of  honor  throughout  the 
world,  came  complete  from  the  great  Convention  to 
the  people  for  adoption.  As  Hancock  rose  from  his 
seat  in  the  old  Congress,  eleven  years  before,  to  sign 

25  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  Franklin  saw  em- 
blazoned on  the  back  of  the  President's  chair  the  sun 
partly  above  the  horizon,  but  it  seemed  setting  in  a 
blood-red  sky.  During  the  seven  years  of  the  Con- 
federation he  had  gathered  no  hope  from  the  glittering 

30  emblem,  but  now  as  with  clear  vision  he  beheld  fixed 
upon  eternal  foundations  the  enduring  structure  of 
constitutional  liberty,  pointing  to  the  sign,  he  forgot 
his  eighty-two  years,  and,  with  the  enthusiasm  of 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  237 

youth,  electrified  the  Convention  with  the  declaration: 
"  Now  I  know  that  it  is  the  rising  sun." 

The  pride  of  the  States  and  the  ambition  of  their 
leaders,  sectional  jealousies  and  the  overwhelming  dis- 
trust of  centralized  pow-er,  were  all  arrayed  against  the  5 
adoption  of  the   Constitution.     North   Carolina   and 
Rhode  Island  refused  to  join  the  Union  until  long 
after  Washington's  inauguration.     For  months  New 
York  was  debatable  ground.     Her  territory,  extend- 
ing from  the  sea  to  the  lakes,  made  her  the  keystone  10 
of  the  arch.     Had  Arnold's  treason  in  the  Revolution 
not  been  foiled  by  the  capture  of  Andre,  England 
would  have  held  New  York  and  subjugated  the  colo- 
nies; and  in  this  crisis,  unless  New  York  assented,  a 
hostile    and    powerful    commonwealth    dividing    the  15 
States  made  the  Union  impossible. 

Success  was  due  to  confidence  in  Washington  and 
the  genius  of  Alexander  Hamilton.  Jefferson  was  the 
inspiration  of  Independence,  but  Hamilton  was  the 
incarnation  of  the  Constitution.  In  no  age  or  country  20 
has  there  appeared  a  more  precocious  or  amazing 
intelligence  than  Hamilton's.  At  seventeen  he  anni- 
hilated the  president  of  his  college,  upon  the  question 
of  rights  of  the  colonies,  in  a  series  of  anonymous 
articles  which  were  credited  to  the  ablest  men  in  the  23 
country:  at  forty-seven,  when  he  died,  his  briefs  had 
become  the  law  of  the  land,  and  his  fiscal  system  was, 
and  after  a  hundred  years  remains,  the  rule  and  policy 
of  our  Government.  He  gave  life  to  the  corpse  of 
national  credit,  and  the  strength  for  self-preservation  30 
and  aggressive  power  to  the  Federal  Union.  Both  as 
an  expounder  of  the  principles  and  an  administrator  of 
the  affairs  of  the  Government  he  stands  supreme  and 


23*  CHAUNCMY  M.  Q&P&W. 

unrivaled  in  American  history.  His  eloquence  was  so 
magnetic,  his  language  so  clear,  and  his  reasoning  so 
irresistible  that  he  swayed  with  equal  ease  popular 
assemblies,  grave  senates,  and  learned  judges.  He 
5  captured  the  people  of  the  whole  country  for  the  Con- 
stitution by  his  papers  in  The  Federalist,  and  conquered 
the  hostile  majority  in  the  New  York  Convention  by 
the  splendor  of  his  oratory. 

But  the  multitudes  whom  no  argument  could  con- 

10  vince,  who  saw  in  the  executive  power  and  centralized 
force  of  the  Constitution,  under  another  name,  the 
dreaded  usurpation  of  king  and  ministry,  were  satis- 
fied only  with  the  assurance,  "  Washington  will  be 
President."  "  Good,"  cried  John  Lamb,  the  able 

15  leader  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty,  as  he  dropped  his  oppo- 
sition; "  for  to  no  other  mortal  would  I  trust  authority 
so  enormous."  "  Washington  will  be  President," 
was  the  battle-cry  of  the  Constitution.  It  quieted 
alarm,  and  gave  confidence  to  the  timid  and  courage 

20  to  the  weak. 

The  country  responded  with  enthusiastic  unanimity, 
but  the  Chief  with  the  greatest  reluctance.  In  the  su- 
preme moment  of  victory,  when  the  world  expected 
him  to  follow  the  precedents  of  the  past,  and  perpetu- 

25  ate  the  power  a  grateful  country  would  willingly  have 
left  in  his  hands,  he  had  resigned  and  retired  to  Mount 
Vernon  to  enjoy  in  private  station  his  well-earned 
rest.  The  Convention  created  by  his  exertions  to 
prevent,  as  he  said,  "  the  decline  of  our  federal  dignity 

30  into  insignificant  and  wretched  fragments  of  empire," 
had  called  him  to  preside  over  its  deliberations.  Its 
work  made  possible  the  realization  of  his  hope  that 
"  we  might  survive  as  an  independent  republic,"  and 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  2  39 

again  he  sought  the  seclusion  of  his  home.  But  after 
the  triumph  of  war,  and  the  formation  of  the  Consti- 
tution came  the  third  and  final  crisis ;  the  initial  move- 
ments of  government  which  were  to  teach  the  infant 
state  the  steadier  steps  of  empire.  5 

He  alone  could  stay  assault  and  inspire  confidence 
while  the  great  and  complicated  machinery  of  organ- 
ized government  was  put  in  order  and  set  in  motion. 
Doubt  existed  nowhere  except  in  his  modest  and  unam- 
bitious heart.  "  My  movements  to  the  chair  of  gov- 10 
ernment,"  he  said,  "  will  be  accompanied  with  feel- 
ings not  unlike  those  of  a  culprit  who  is  going  to  the 
place  of  his  execution.  So  unwilling  am  I,  in  the 
evening  of  life,  nearly  consumed  in  public  cares,  to 
quit  a  peaceful  abode  for  an  ocean  of  difficulties,  with- 15 
out  that  competency  of  political  skill,  abilities,  and  in- 
clination, which  are  necessary  to  manage  the  helm." 
His  whole  life  had  been  spent  in  repeated  sacrifices  for 
his  country's  welfare,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  now, 
though  there  is  an  undertone  of  inexpressible  sadness  20 
in  this  entry  in  his  diary  on  the  night  of  his  departure: 

"  About  ten  o'clock  I  bade  adieu  to  Mount  Vernon, 
to  private  life,  and  to  domestic  felicity,  and  with  a 
mind  oppressed  with  more  anxious  and  painful  sensa- 
tions than  I  have  words  to  express,  set  out  for  New  25 
York  with  the  best  disposition  to  render  service  to  my 
country  in  obedience  to  its  call,  but  with  less  hope  of 
answering  its  expectations." 

No  conqueror  was  ever  accorded  such  a  triumph,  no 
ruler  ever  received  such  a  welcome.     In  this  memo-  30 
rable  march  of  six  days  to  the  Capitol,  it  was  the 
pride  of  the  States  to  accompany  him  with  the  masses 
of  their  people  to  their  borders,  that  the  citizens  of  the 


240  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

next  commonwealth  might  escort  him  through  its 
territory.  It  was  the  glory  of  the  cities  to  receive 
him  with  every  civic  honor  at  their  gates,  and  enter- 
tain him  as  the  savior  of  their  liberties.  He  rode 
5  under  triumphal  arches  from  ^which  children  lowered 
laurel  wreaths  upon  his  brow.  The  roadways  were 
strewn  with  flowers,  and,  as  they  were  crushed  beneath 
his  horse's  hoofs,  their  sweet  incense  wafted  to  Heaven 
the  ever-ascending  prayers  of  his  loving  countrymen 

10  for  his  life  and  safety.  The  swelling  anthem  of  grati- 
tude and  reverence  greeted  and  followed  him  along 
the  country-side  and  through  the  crowded  streets: 
"  Long  live  George  Washington !  Long  live  the 
Father  of  his  People !  " 

15  His  entry  into  New  York  was  worthy  the  city  and 
State.  He  was  met  by  the  chief  officers  of  the  retiring 
Government  of  the  country,  by  the  Governor  of  the 
Commonwealth,  and  the  whole  population.  This 
superb  harbor  was  alive  with  fleets  and  flags;  and  the 

20  ships  of  other  nations,  with  salutes  from  their  guns, 
and  thfe  cheers  of  their  crews,  added  to  the  joyous 
acclaim. 

But  as  the  captains,  who  had  asked  the  privilege, 
bending  proudly  to  their  oars,  rowed  the  President's 

25  barge  swiftly  through  these  inspiring  scenes,  Wash- 
ington's mind  and  heart  were  full  of  reminiscence  and 
foreboding. 

He  had  visited  New  York  thirty-three  years  before, 
also  in  the  month  of  April,  in  the  full  perfection  of  his 

30  early  manhood,  fresh  from  Braddock's  bloody  field, 
and  wearing  the  only  laurels  of  the  battle,  bearing  the 
prophetic  blessing  of  the  venerable  President  Davies, 
of  Princeton  College,  as  "  That  heroic  youth,  Colonel 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  241 

Washington,  whom  I  cannot  but  hope  Providence  has 
hitherto  preserved  in  so  signal  a  manner  for  some  im- 
portant service  to  the  country."     It  was  a  fair  daugh- 
ter of  our  State  whose  smiles  allured  him  here,  and 
whose  coy  confession  that  her  heart  was  another's  re-  5 
corded  his  only  failure,  and  saddened  his  departure. 
Twenty  years  passed,  and  he  stood  before  the  New 
York  Congress,  on  this  very  spot,  the  unanimously 
chosen  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Continental  Army, 
urging  the  people  to  more  vigorous  measures,  and  10 
made  painfully  aware  of  the  increased  desperation  of 
the  struggle,  from  the  aid  to  be  given  to  the  enemy  by 
domestic  sympathizers,  when  he  knew  that  the  same 
local  military  company  which  escorted  him  was  to  per- 
form the  like  service  for  the  British  Governor  Tryon  15 
on  his  landing  on  the  morrow.     Returning  for  the  de- 
fense of  the  city  the  next  summer,  he  executed  the 
retreat  from  Long  Island,  which  secured  from  Freder- 
ick the  Great  the  opinion  that  a  great  commander  had 
appeared,  and  at  Harlem  Heights  he  won  the  first  20 
American  victory  of  the  Revolution,  which  gave  that 
confidence  to  our  raw  recruits  against  the  famous 
veterans    of    Europe    which    carried    our    army    tri- 
umphantly through  the  war.     Six  years  more  of  un- 
told sufferings,  of  freezing  and   starving  camps,  of  25 
marches  over  the  snow  by  barefooted  soldiers  to  heroic 
attack  and  splendid  victory,  of  despair  with  an  unpaid 
army,  and  of  hope  from  the  generous  assistance  of 
France,  and  peace  had  come  and  independence  tri- 
umphed.    As  the  last  soldier  of  the  invading  enemy  30 
embarks,  Washington  at  the  head  of  the  patriot  host 
enters  the  city,  receives  the  welcome  and  gratitude  of 
its  people,  and  in  the  tavern  which  faces  us  across  the 


34«  CHA  UNCE  Y  M.  DEPM,  W, 

way,  in  silence  more  eloquent  than  speech,  and  with 
tears  which  choke  the  words,  he  bids  farewell  forever 
to  his  companions  in  arms.  Such  were  the  crowding 
memories  of  the  past  suggested  to  Washington  in 
5  1789  by  his  approach  to  New  York.  But  the  future 
had  none  of  the  splendor  of  precedent  and  brilliance 
of  promise  which  have  since  attended  the  inaguration 
of  our  presidents.  An  untried  scheme,  adopted  mainly 
because  its  administration  was  to  be  confided  to  him, 

10  was  to  be  put  in  practice.  He  knew  that  he  was  to 
be  met  at  every  step  of  constitutional  progress  by  fac- 
tions temporarily  hushed  into  unanimity  by  the  ter- 
rific force  of  the  tidal  wave  which  was  bearing  him  to 
the  President's  seat,  but  fiercely  hostile  upon  questions 

15  affecting  every  power  of  nationality  and  the  existence 
of  the  Federal  Government. 

Washington  was  never  dramatic,  but  on  great  oc- 
casions he  not  only  rose  to  the  full  ideal  of  the  event, 
he  became  himself  the  event.  One  hundred  years  ago 

20  to-day  the  procession  of  foreign  ambassadors,  of  states- 
men and  generals,  of  civic  societies  and  military  com- 
panies, which  escorted  him,  marched  from  Franklin 
Square  to  Pearl  Street,  through  Pearl  to  Broad  to  this 
spot;  but  the  people  saw  only  Washington.  As  he 

25  stood  upon  the  steps  of  the  old  Government  Building 
here,  the  thought  must  have  occurred  to  him  that  it 
was  a  cradle  of  liberty,  and  as  such  giving  a  bright 
omen  for  the  future. 

In  these  halls,  in  1735,  in  the  trial  of  John  Zenger, 

30  had  been  established,  for  the  first  time  in  its  history, 
the  liberty  of  the  press.  Here  the  New  York  Assem- 
bly, in  1764,  made  the  protest  against  the  Stamp  Act, 
and  proposed  the  General  Conference,  which  was  the 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  243 

beginning  of  the  united  colonial  action.  In  this  old 
State  House,  in  1765,  the  Stamp  Act  Congress — the 
first  and  the  father  of  American  congresses — assembled 
and  presented  to  the  English  government  that  vigor- 
ous protest  which  caused  the  repeal  of  the  Act,  and  5 
checked  the  first  step  toward  the  usurpation  which  lost 
the  American  Colonies  to  the  British  Empire.  Within 
these  walls  the  Congress  of  the  Confederation  had 
commissioned  its  ambassadors  abroad,  and  in  ineffec- 
tual efforts  at  government  had  created  the  necessity  10 
for  the  concentration  of  Federal  authority,  now  to  be 
consummated. 

The  first  Congress  of  the  United  States,  gathered  in 
this  ancient  temple  of  liberty,  greeted  Washington  and 
accompanied  him  to  the  balcony.  The  famous  men  15 
visible  about  him  were  Chancellor  Livingston,  Vice- 
President  John  Adams,  Alexander  Hamilton,  Gov- 
ernor Clinton,  Roger  Sherman,  Richard  Henry  Lee, 
General  Knox,  and  Baron  Steuben.  But  we  believe 
that  among  the  invisible  host  above  him  at  this  20 
supreme  moment  of  the  culmination  in  permanent 
triumph  of  the  thousands  of  years  of  struggle  for 
self-government,  were  the  spirits  of  soldiers  of  the 
Revolution  who  had  died  that  their  countrymen  might 
enjoy  this  blessed  day,  and  with  them  were  the  Barons  25 
of  Runnymede,  and  William  the  Silent,  and  Sidney, 
and  Russell,  and  Cromwell,  and  Hampden,  and  the 
heroes  and  martyrs  of  liberty  of  every  race  and  age. 

As  he  came  forward,  the  multitude  in  the  streets,  in 
the  windows,  and  on  the  roofs  sent  up  such  a  raptur-  30 
ous  shout  that  Washington  sat  down,  overcome  with 
emotion.     As  he  slowly  rose,  and  his  tall  and  majestic 
form  again  appeared,  the  people,  deeply  affected,  in 


244  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

awed  silence  viewed  the  scene.  The  chancellor 
solemnly  read  to  him  the  oath  of  office,  and  Washing- 
ton, repeating,  said :  "  I  do  solemnly  swear  that  I  will 
faithfully  execute  the  office  of  President  of  the  United 
5  States,  and  will,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  preserve, 
protect,  and  defend  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States."  Then  he  reverently  bent  low  and  kissed  the 
Bible,  uttering  with  profound  emotion,  "  So  help  me, 
God."  The  chancellor  waved  his  robes  and  shouted: 

10  "  It  is  done.  Long  live  George  Washington,  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States!"  "Long  live  George 
Washington,  our  first  President!  "  was  the  answering 
cheer  of  the  people,  and  from  the  belfries  rang  the 
bells,  and  from  forts  and  ships  thundered  the  cannon, 

15  echoing  and  repeating  the  cry  with  responding  acclaim 
all  over  the  land:  "Long  live  George  Washington, 
President  of  the  United  States!" 

The  simple  and  imposing  ceremony  over,  the  in- 
augural read,  the  blessing  of  God  prayerfully  peti- 

20  tioned  in  old  St.  Paul's,  the  festivities  passed:  and 
Washington  stood  alone.  No  one  else  could  take  the 
helm  of  State,  and  enthusiast  and  doubter  alike  trusted 
only  him.  The  teachings  and  habits  of  the  past  had 
educated  the  people  to  faith  in  the  independence  of 

25  their  States;  and  for  the  supreme  authority  of  the  new 
Government  there  stood,  against  the  precedent  of  a 
century  and  the  passions  of  the  hour,  little  beside  the 
arguments  of  Hamilton,  Madison,  and  Jay  in  The 
Federalist,  and  the  judgment  of  Washington. 

30  With  the  first  attempt  to  exercise  national  power 
began  the  duel  to  the  death  between  State  Sov- 
ereignty, claiming  the  right  to  nullify  federal  laws  or 
secede  from  the  Union,  and  the  power  of  the  Repub- 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  245 

k 

He  to  command  the  resources  of  the  country,  to  en- 
force its  authority,  and  protect  its  life.  It  was  the 
beginning  of  the  sixty-years'  war  for  the  Constitution 
and  the  nation.  It  seared  consciences,  degraded  poli- 
tics, destroyed  parties,  ruined  statesmen,  and  retarded  5 
the  advance  and  development  of  the  country;  it  sacri- 
ficed hundreds  of  thousands  of  precious  lives,  and 
squandered  thousands  of  millions  of  money;  it  deso- 
lated the  fairest  portion  of  the  land  and  carried  mourn- 
ing into  every  home  North  and  South ;  but  it  ended  at  10 
Appomattox  in  the  absolute  triumph  of  the  Republic. 
Posterity  owes  to  Washington's  Administration  the 
policy  and  measures,  the  force  and  direction  which 
made  possible  this  glorious  result.  In  giving  the 
organization  of  the  Department  of  State  and  Foreign  15 
Relations  to  Jefferson,  the  Treasury  to  Hamilton,  and 
the  Supreme  Court  to  Jay,  he  selected  for  his  Cabinet 
and  called  to  his  assistance  the  ablest  and  most  emi- 
nent men  of  his  time.  Hamilton's  marvelous  versa- 
tility and  genius  designed  the  armory  and  the  weapons  20 
for  the  promotion  of  national  power  and  greatness, 
but  Washington's  steady  support  carried  them 
through.  Parties  crystallized,  and  party  passions  were 
intense,  debates  were  intemperate,  and  the  Union 
openly  threatened  and  secretly  plotted  against,  as  the  25 
firm  pressure  of  this  mighty  personality  funded  the 
debt  and  established  credit;  assumed  the  State  debts 
incurred  in  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  and  superseded 
the  local  by  the  national  obligation;  imposed  duties 
upon  imports  and  excise  upon  spirits,  and  created  30 
revenue  and  resources;  organized  a  National  Banking 
system  for  public  needs  and  private  business,  and 
called  out  an  army  to  put  down  by  force  of  arms  re- 


*46  CHAUNCEY  M.  DEPEW. 

sistance  to  the  Federal  laws  imposing  unpopular  taxes. 
Upon  the  plan  marked  out  by  the  Constitution  this 
great  architect,  with  unfailing  faith  and  unfaltering 
courage,  builded  the  Republic.  He  gave  to  the  Gov- 
5  ernment  the  principles  of  action  and  sources  of  power 
which  carried  it  successfully  through  the  wars  with 
Great  Britain  in  iSi2  and  Mexico  in  1848,  which  en- 
abled Jackson  to  defeat  nullification,  and  recruited  and 
equipped  millions  cf  men  for  Lincoln,  and  justified  and 
10  sustained  his  Proclamation  of  Emancipation. 

The  French  Revolution  was  the  bloody  reality  of 
France  and  the  nightmare  of  the  civilized  world.  The 
tyranny  of  centuries  culminated  in  frightful  reprisals 
and  reckless  revenges.  As  parties  rose  to  power  and 
15  passed  to  the  guillotine,  the  frenzy  of  the  revolt  against 
all  authority  reached  every  country  and  captured  the 
imaginations  and  enthusiasm  of  millions  in  every  land, 
who  believed  they  saw  that  the  madness  of  anarchy, 
the  overturning  of  all  institutions,  the  confiscation  and 
20  distribution  of  property,  would  end  in  a  millennium 
for  the  masses  and  the  universal  brotherhood  of  man. 
Enthusiasm  for  France,  our  late  ally,  and  the  terrible 
commercial  and  industrial  distress  occasioned  by  the 
failure  of  the  Government  under  the  Articles  of  Con- 
as  federation,  aroused  an  almost  unanimous  cry  for  the 
young  Republic,  not  yet  sure  of  its  existence,  to 
plunge  into  the  vortex.  The  ablest  and  purest  states- 
men of  the  time  bent  to  the  storm,  but  Washington 
was  unmoved.  He  stood  like  the  rock-ribbed  coast 
30  of  a  continent  between  the  surging  billows  of  fanati- 
cism and  the  child  of  his  love.  Order  is  Heaven's  first 
law,  and  the  mind  of  Washington  was  order.  The  Rev- 
olution defied  God  and  derided  the  law.  Washing- 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  247 

ton  devoutly  reverenced  the  Deity,  and  believed  lib- 
erty impossible  without  law.  He  spoke  to  the  sober 
judgment  of  the  nation  and  made  clear  the  danger. 
He  saved  the  ancient  Government  from  ruin,  and  ex- 
pelled the  French  Minister  who  had  appealed  from  5 
him  to  the  people.  The  whole  land,  seeing  safety  only 
in  his  continuance  in  office,  joined  Jefferson  in  urging 
him  to  accept  a  second  term.  "  North  and  South," 
pleaded  the  Secretary,  "  will  hang  together  while  they 
have  you  to  hang  to."  10 

No  man  ever  stood  for  so  much  to  his  country  and 
to  mankind  as  George  Washington.  Hamilton,  Jef- 
ferson, and  Adams,  Madison,  and  Jay,  each  repre- 
sented some  of  the  elements  which  formed  the  Union : 
Washington  embodied  them  all.  They  fell  at  times  15 
under  popular  disapproval,  were  burned  in  effigy,  were 
stoned;  but  he  with  unerring  judgment  was  always 
the  leader  of  the  people.  Milton  said  of  Cromwell, 
that  "  war  made  him  great,  peace  greater."  The  su- 
periority of  Washington's  character  and  genius  was  20 
more  conspicuous  in  the  formation  of  our  Government 
and  in  putting  it  on  indestructible  foundations,  than 
in  leading  armies  to  victory  and  conquering  the  in- 
dependence of  his  country.  "  The  Union  in  any 
event  "  is  the  central  thought  of  his  Farewell  Address;  25 
and  all  the  years  of  his  grand  life  were  devoted  to  its 
formation  and  preservation.  He  fought  as  a  youth 
with  Braddock  and  in  the  capture  of  Fort  Du  Quesne 
for  the  protection  of  the  whole  country.  As  Com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  Continental  Army,  his  com-  30 
mission  was  from  the  Congress  of  the  United  Colo- 
nies. He  inspired  the  movement  for  the  Republic, 
was  the  President  and  dominant  spirit  of  the  Conven- 


248  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

tion  which  framed  its  Constitution,  and  its  President 
for  eight  years,  and  guided  its  course  until  satisfied 
that  moving  safely  along  the  broad  highway  of  time, 
it  would  be  surely  ascending  toward  the  first  place 
5  among  the  nations  of  the  world,  the  asylum  of  the 
oppressed,  the  home  of  the  free. 

Do  his  countrymen  exaggerate  his  virtues?  Listen 
to  Guizot,  the  historian  of  civilization:  "Washington 
did  the  two  greatest  things  which  in  politics  it  is  per- 

10  mitted  to  man  to  attempt.  He  maintained  by  peace 
the  independence  of  his  country  which  he  conquered 
by  war.  He  founded  a  free  government  in  the  name 
of  the  principles  of  order  and  by  re-establishing  their 
sway."  Hear  Lord  Erskine,  the  most  famous  of  Eng- 

15  lish  advocates:  "  You  are  the  only  being  for  whom  I 
have  an  awful  reverence."  Remember  the  tribute  of 
Charles  James  Fox,  the  greatest  parliamentary  orator 
who  ever  swayed  the  British  House  of  Commons: 
"  Illustrious  man,  before  whom  all  borrowed  greatness 

20  sinks  into  insignificance."  Contemplate  the  character 
of  Lord  Brougham,  pre-eminent  for  two  generations  in 
every  department  of  human  activity  and  thought,  and 
then  impress  upon  the  memories  of  your  children  his 
deliberate  judgment:  "Until  time  shall  be  no  more, 

25  will  a  test  of  the  progress  which  our  race  has  made  in 
wisdom  and  virtue  be  derived  from  the  veneration  paid 
to  the  immortal  name  of  Washington." 

Chatham,  who,  with  Clive,  conquered  an  empire  in 
the  East,  died  broken-hearted  at  the  loss  of  the  empire 

30  in  the  West,  by  follies  which  even  his  power  and  elo- 
quence could  not  prevent.  Pitt  saw  the  vast  creations 
of  his  diplomacy  shattered  at  Austerlitz,  and  fell  mur- 
muring: "My  country!  how  I  leave  my  country!" 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  249 

Napoleon  caused  a  noble  tribute  to  Washington  to  be 
read  at  the  head  of  his  armies;  but,  unable  to  rise  to 
Washington's  greatness,  witnessed  the  vast  structure 
erected  by  conquest  and  cemented  by  blood,  to  minis- 
ter to  his  own  ambition  and  pride,  crumble  into  frag-  5 
ments,  and  an  exile  and  a  prisoner  he  breathed  his 
last,  babbling  of  battle-fields  and  carnage.  Wash- 
ington, with  his  finger  upon  his  pulse,  felt  the  presence 
of  death,  and  calmly  reviewing  the  past  and  fore- 
casting the  future,  answered  to  the  summons  of  the  10 
grim  messenger,  "  It  is  well  ";  and  as  his  mighty  soul 
ascended  to  God,  the  land  was  deluged  with  tears  and 
the  world  united  in  his  eulogy.  Blot  out  from  the 
page  of  history  the  names  of  all  the  great  actors  of  his 
time  in  the  drama  of  nations,  and  preserve  the  name  15 
of  Washington,  and  still  the  century  would  be 
renowned. 

We  stand  to-day  upon  the  dividing  line  between  the 
first  and  second  century  of  constitutional  government. 
There  are  no  clouds  overhead,  and  no  convulsions  20 
under  our  feet.  We  reverently  return  thanks  to  Al- 
mighty God  for  the  past,  and  with  confident  and  hope- 
ful promise  march  upon  sure  ground  toward  the 
future.  The  simple  facts  of  these  hundred  years  para- 
lyze the  imagination,  and  we  contemplate  the  vast  25 
accumulations  of  the  century  with  awe  and  pride. 
Our  population  has  grown  from  four  to  sixty-five 
millions.  Its  center  moving  westward  five  hundred 
miles  since  1789,  is  eloquent  with  the  founding  of 
cities  and  the  birth  of  States.  New  settlements,  clear-  30 
ing  the  forests  and  subduing  the  prairies,  and  adding 
four  millions  to  the  few  thousands  of  farms  which  were 
the  support  of  Washington's  Republic,  create  one  of 


250  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

the  great  granaries  of  the  world  and  open  exhaustless 
reservoirs  of  national  wealth. 

The  infant  industries,  which  the  first  Act  of  our 
Administration  sought  to  encourage,  now  give  remu- 
5  nerative  employment  to  more  people  than  inhabited 
the  Republic  at  the  beginning  of  Washington's  Presi- 
dency. The  grand  total  of  their  annual  output  of 
seven  thousand  millions  of  dollars  in  value  places  the 
United  States  first  among  the  manufacturing  coun- 

10  tries  of  the  earth.  One-half  of  all  the  railroads,  and 
one-quarter  of  all  the  telegraph  lines  of  the  world 
within  our  borders,  testify  to  the  volume,  variety,  and 
value  of  an  internal  commerce  which  makes  these 
States,  if  need  be,  independent  and  self-supporting. 

15  These  hundred  years  of  development  under  favorable 
political  conditions  have  brought  the  sum  of  our  na- 
tional wealth  to  a  figure  which  is  past  the  results  of  a 
thousand  years  for  the  mother-land,  herself  otherwise 
the  richest  of  modern  empires. 

20  During  this  generation  a  civil  war  of  unequaled  mag- 
nitude caused  the  expenditure  and  loss  of  eight  thou- 
sand millions  of  dollars,  and  killed  six  hundred  thou- 
sand and  permanently  disabled  over  a  million  young 
men ;  and  yet  the  impetuous  progress  of  the  North  and 

25  the  marvelous  industrial  development  of  the  new  and 
free  South  have  obliterated  the  evidences  of  destruc- 
tion and  made  the  war  a  memory,  and  have  stimulated 
production  until  our  annual  surplus  nearly  equals  that 
of  England,  France,  and  Germany  combined.  The 

30  teeming  millions  of  Asia  till  the  patient  soil  and  work 
the  shuttle  and  loom  as  their  fathers  have  done  for 
ages;  modern  Europe  has  felt  the  influence  and  re- 
ceived the  benefit  of  the  incalculable  multiplication  of 


WASHINGTON 'S  IN  A  UGURA  TION.  251 

force  by  inventive  genius  since  the  Napoleonic  wars; 
and  yet,  only  two  hundred  and  sixty-nine  years  after 
the  little  band  of  Pilgrims  landed  on  Plymouth  Rock, 
our  people,  numbering  less  than  one-fifteenth  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  globe,  do  one-third  of  its  mining,  5 
one-fourth  of  its  manufacturing,  one-fifth  of  its  agri- 
culture, and  own  one-sixth  of  its  wealth. 

This  realism  of  material  prosperity,  surpassing  the 
wildest  creation  of  the  romancers  who  have  astonished 
and  delighted  mankind,  would  be  full  of  danger  for  the  10 
present  and  menace  for  the  future,  if  the  virtue,  intelli- 
gence, and  independence  of  the  people  were  not  equal 
to  the  wise  regulation  of  its  uses  and  the  stern  pre- 
vention of  its  abuses.  But  following  the  growth  and 
power  of  the  great  factors,  whose  aggregation  of  15 
capital  made  possible  the  tremendous  pace  of  the  settle- 
ment of  our  national  domain,  the  building  of  our  great 
cities  and  the  opening  of  the  lines  of  communication 
which  have  unified  our  country  and  created  our  re- 
sources, have  come  national  and  state  legislation  and  20 
supervision.  Twenty  millions — a  vast  majority  of  our 
people  of  intelligent  age — acknowledging  the  au- 
thority of  their  several  churches,  twelve  millions  of 
children  in  the  common  schools,  three  hundred  and 
forty-five  universities  and  colleges  for  the  higher  edu-  25 
cation  of  men  and  two  hundred  for  women,  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty  institutions  of  learning  for  science,  law, 
medicine,  and  theology,  are  the  despair  of  the  scoffer 
and  the  demagogue,  and  the  firm  support  of  civiliza- 
tion and  liberty.  30 

Steam  and  electricity  have  not  only  changed  the 
commerce,  they  have  also  revolutionized  the  govern- 
ments of  the  world.  They  have  given  to  the  press  its 


252  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW. 

powers,  and  brought  all  races  and  nationalities  into 
touch  and  sympathy.  They  have  tested  and  are  try- 
ing the  strength  of  all  systems  to  stand  the  strain  and 
conform  to  the  conditions  which  follow  the  germinat- 
5  ing  influences  of  American  democracy.  At  the  time 
of  the  inauguration  of  Washington,  seven  royal  fami- 
lies ruled  as  many  kingdoms  in  Italy,  but  six  of  them 
have  seen  their  thrones  overturned  and  their  coun- 
tries disappear  from  the  map  of  Europe.  Most  of  the 

10  kings,  princes,  dukes,  and  margraves  of  Germany,  who 
reigned  despotically  and  sold  their  soldiers  for  for- 
eign service,  have  passed  into  history,  and  their  heirs 
have  neither  prerogatives  nor  domain.  Spain  has 
gone  through  many  violent  changes,  and  the  perma- 

15  nency  of  her  present  government  seems  to  depend  upon 
the  feeble  life  of  an  infant  prince.  France,  our  an- 
cient friend,  with  repeated  and  bloody  revolutions,  has 
tried  the  government  of  Bourbon  and  Convention,  of 
Directory  and  Consulate,  of  Empire  and  Citizen  King, 

20  of  hereditary  Sovereign  and  Republic,  of  Empire,  and 
again  Republic.  The  Hapsburg  and  the  Hohenzol- 
lern,  after  convulsions  which  have  rocked  the  founda- 
tions of  their  thrones,  have  been  compelled  to  concede 
constitutions  for  their  people,  and  to  divide  with  them 

25  the  arbitrary  power  wielded  so  autocratically  and  bril- 
liantly by  Maria  Theresa  and  Frederick  the  Great. 
The  royal  will  of  George  III.  could  crowd  the  Ameri- 
can colonies  into  rebellion,  and  wage  war  upon  them 
until  they  were  lost  to  his  kingdom ;  but  the  authority 

30  of  the  Crown  has  devolved  upon  ministers  who  hold 
office  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  representatives  of 
the  people,  and  the  equal  powers  of  the  House  of 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  253 

Lords  have  become  vested  in  the  Commons,  leaving 
to  the  Peers  only  the  shadow  of  their  ancient  privi- 
leges. But  to-day  the  American  people,  after  all  the 
dazzling  developments  of  the  century,  are  still  happily 
living  under  the  Government  of  Washington.  The  5 
Constitution  during  all  that  period  has  been  amended 
only  upon  the  lines  laid  down  in  the  original  instru- 
ment, and  in  conformity  with  the  recorded  opinions 
of  the  Fathers.  The  first  great  addition  was  the  incor- 
poration of  a  Bill  of  Rights,  and  the  last  the  embed-  10 
ding  into  the  Constitution  of  the  immortal  principle 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence — of  the  equal- 
ity of  all  men  before  the  law.  No  crisis  has  been  too 
perilous  for  its  powers,  no  evolution  too  rapid  for  its 
adaptation,  and  no  expansion  beyond  its  easy  grasp  15 
and  administration.  It  has  assimilated  diverse  na- 
tionalities with  warring  traditions,  customs,  condi- 
tions, and  languages,  imbued  them  with  its  spirit,  and 
won  their  passionate  loyalty  and  love. 

The  flower  of  the  youth  of  the  nations  of  Conti-  20 
nental  Europe  are  conscripted  from  productive  indus- 
tries and  drilling  in  camps.  Vast  armies  stand  in 
battle  array  along  the  frontiers,  and  a  Kaiser's  whim  or 
a  Minister's  mistake  may  precipitate  the  most  destruc- 
tive war  of  modern  times.  25 

Both  monarchical  and  republican  governments  are 
seeking  safety  in  the  repression  and  suppression  of 
opposition  and  criticism.  The  volcanic  forces  of 
democratic  aspiration  and  socialistic  revolt  are 
rapidly  increasing  and  threaten  peace  and  security.  30 
We  turn  from  these  gathering  storms  to  the  British 
Isles  and  find  their  people  in  the  throes  of  a  political 


254  CHAUNCEY  M.   DEPEW, 

crisis  involving  the  form  and  substance  of  their  Gov- 
ernment, and  their  statesmen  far  from  confident  that 
the  enfranchised  and  unprepared  masses  will  wisely 
use  their  power. 

5  But  for  us  no  army  exhausts  our  resources  nor  con- 
sumes our  youth.  Our  navy  must  needs  increase  in 
order  that  the  protecting  flag  may  follow  the  expand- 
ing commerce  which  is  to  successfully  compete  in  all 
the  markets  of  the  world.  The  sun  of  our  destiny  is 

10  still  rising,  and  its  rays  illumine  vast  territories  as  yet 
unoccupied  and  undeveloped,  and  which  are  to  be  the 
happy  homes  of  millions  of  people.  The  questions 
which  affect  the  powers  of  government  and  the  expan- 
sion or  limitation  of  the  authority  of  the  Federal  Con- 

15  stitution  are  so  completely  settled,  and  so  unanimously 
approved,  that  our  political  divisions  produce  only  the 
healthy  antagonism  of  parties  which  is  necessary  for 
the  preservation  of  liberty.  Our  institutions  furnish 
the  full  equipment  of  shield  and  spear  for  the  battles 

20  of  freedom ;  and  absolute  protection  against  every  dan- 
ger which  threatens  the  welfare  of  the  people  will 
always  be  found  in  the  intelligence  which  appreciates 
their  value,  and  the  courage  and  morality  with  which 
their  powers  are  exercised.  The  spirit  of  Washington 

25  fills  the  executive  office.  Presidents  may  not  rise  to 
the  full  measure  of  his  greatness,  but  they  must  not 
fall  below  his  standard  of  public  duty  and  obligation. 
His  life  and  character,  conscientiously  studied  and 
thoroughly  understood  by  coming  generations,  will  be 

30  for  them  a  liberal  education  for  private  life  and  public 
station,  for  citizenship  and  patriotism,  for  love  and  de- 
votion to  Union  and  liberty.  With  their  inspiring  past 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION.  255 

and  splendid  present,  the  people  of  these  United 
States,  heirs  of  a  hundred  years  marvelously  rich  in 
all  which  adds  to  the  glory  and  greatness  of  a  nation, 
with  an  abiding  trust  in  the  stability  and  elasticity  of 
their  Constitution,  and  an  abounding  faith  in  them- 
selves, hail  the  coming  century  with  hope  and  joy. 


THE  PLATFORM  ORATION. 

GEORGE   WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

Born  1824.     Died  1892. 
THE  LEADERSHIP  OF   EDUCATED   MEN. 

[The  subject  with  which  this  oration  deals,  the  place  of  the  edu- 
cated man  in  public  affairs,  was  a  particularly  congenial  one  to  Mr. 
Curtis,  as  it  has  been  to  other  men  who  have  thought  deeply  over  the 
problems  of  our  democracy.  In  1856,  in  an  address  which  Mr.  Curtis 
delivered  before  the  literary  societies  of  Wesleyan  University,  his 
first  platform  oration  of  any  note,  he  chose  for  his  topic  ' '  The  duty 
of  the  American  Scholar  to  Politics  and  the  Times."  A  year  later,  in 
1857,  when  he  spoke  to  the  graduating  class  of  Union  College  on 
"  Patriotism  "  he  took  as  his  theme  this  question  :  "  How  can  you, 
as  educated  young  Americans,  best  serve  the  great  cause  of  human 
development  to  which  all  nationalities  are  subservient?"  Again, 
twenty  years  after  this,  in  another  address  before  the  students  of 
Union  College,  he  had  for  his  subject  "  The  Public  Duty  of  Educated 
men."  The  present  oration,  therefore,  which  was  delivered  before 
the  alumni  of  Brown  University,  at  Providence,  June  20,  1882,  is 
not  only  one  of  the  most  eloquent  Mr.  Curtis  ever  delivered,  but 
it  represents  a  theme  to  which  he  gave  much  thought  throughout  his 
life. 

The  oration  is  reprinted,  by  permission,  from  the  Orations  and 
Addresses  of  George  William  Curtis  :  Copyright,  1893,  by  Messrs. 
Harper  and  Brothers.] 

There  is  a  modern  English  picture  which  the  genius 

of  Hawthorne  might  have  inspired.     The  painter  calls 

it,  "  How  they  met  themselves."  A  man  and  a  woman, 

haggard  and  weary,  wandering  lost  in  a  somber  wood, 

5  suddenly  meet  the  shadowy  figures  of  a  youth  and  a 

256 


THE  LEADERSHIP   OF  EDUCATED  MEN.       257 

maid.  Some  mysterious  fascination  fixes  the  gaze 
and  stills  the  hearts  of  the  wanderers,  and  their  amaze- 
ment deepens  into  awe  as  they  gradually  recognize 
themselves  as  once  they  were ;  the  soft  blqom  of  youth 
upon  their  rounded  cheeks,  the  dewy  light  of  hope  in  5 
their  trusting  eyes,  exulting  confidence  in  their  spring- 
ing step,  themselves  blithe  and  radiant  with  the  glory 
of  the  dawn.  To-day,  and  here,  we  meet  ourselves. 
Not  to  these  familiar  scenes  alone — yonder  col- 
lege-green with  its  reverend  traditions ;  the  hal- 10 
cyon  cove  of  the  Seekonk,  upon  which  the 
memory  of  Roger  Williams  broods  like  a  bird 
of  calm;  the  historic  bay,  beating  forever  with 
the  muffled  oars  of  Barton  and  of  Abraham 
Whipple;  here,  the  humming  city  of  the  living;  15 
there,  the  peaceful  city  of  the  dead; — not  to  these  only 
or  chiefly  do  we  return,  but  to  ourselves  as  we  once 
were.  It  is  not  the  smiling  freshmen  of  the  year,  it  is 
your  own  beardless  and  unwrinkled  faces,  that  are 
looking  from  the  windows  of  University  Hall  and  of  20 
Hope  College.  Under  the  trees  upon  the  hill  it  is 
yourselves  whom  you  see  walking,  full  of  hopes  and 
dreams,  glowing  with  conscious  power,  and  "  nourish- 
ing a  youth  sublime  " ;  and  in  this  familiar  temple, 
which  surely  has  never  echoed  with  eloquence  so  fer-  25 
vid  and  inspiring  as  that  of  your  commencement  ora- 
tions, it  is  not  yonder  youths  in  the  galleries  who,  as 
they  fondly  believe,  are  whispering  to  yonder  maids; 
it  is  your  younger  selves  who,  in  the  days  that  are  no 
more, are  murmuring  to  the  fairest  mothers  and  grand-  30 
mothers  of  those  maids. 

Happy  the  worn  and  weary  man  and  woman  in  the 
picture  could  they  have  felt  their  older  eyes  still  glis- 


258  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

tening  with  that  earlier  light,  and  their  hearts  yet  beat- 
ing with  undiminished  sympathy  and  aspiration. 
Happy  we,  brethren,  whatever  may  have  been 
achieved,  whatever  left  undone,  if,  returning  to  the 
5  home  of  our  earlier  years,  we  bring  with  us  the  illimit- 
able hope,  the  unchilled  resolution,  the  inextinguish- 
able faith  of  youth. 

It  was  as  scholars  that  you  were  here;  it  is  to  the 
feeling  and  life  of  scholars  that  you  return.     I  mean 

10  the  scholar  not  as  a  specialist  or  deeply  proficient  stu- 
dent, not  like  Darwin,  a  conqueror  greater  than  Alex- 
ander, who  extended  the  empire  of  human  knowledge; 
nor  like  Emerson,  whose  serene  wisdom,  a  planet  in 
ths  cloudless  heaven,  lighted  the  path  of  his  age  to 

15  larger  spiritual  liberty;  nor  like  Longfellow,  sweet 
singer  of  our  national  spring-time,  whose  scholarship 
decorated  his  pure  and  limpid  song  as  flowers  are  mir- 
rored in  a  placid  stream — not  as  scholars  like  these, 
but  as  educated  men,  to  whom  the  dignity  and  honor 

20  and  renown  of  the  educated  class  are  precious,  how- 
ever remote  from  study  your  lives  may  have  been,  you 
return  to  the  annual  festival  of  letters.  "  Neither 
years  nor  books,"  says  Emerson,  speaking  of  his  own 
college  days,  "  have  yet  availed  to  extirpate  a  preju- 

25  dice  then  rooted  in  me  that  a  scholar  is  the  favorite  of 
heaven  and  earth,  the  excellency  of  his  country,  the 
happiest  of  men." 

But  every  educated  man  is  aware  of  a  profound 
popular  distrust  of  the  courage  and  sagacity  of  the 

30  educated  class.  Franklin  and  Lincoln  are  good 
enough  for  us,  exclaims  this  jealous  skepticism;  as  if 
Franklin  and  Lincoln  did  not  laboriously  repair  by 
vigorous^  study  the  want  of  early  opportunity.  The 


THE  LEADERSHIP   OF  EDUCATED  MEN.      259 

scholar  appealing  to  experience  is  proudly  told  to  close 
his  books,  for  what  has  America  to  do  with  experi- 
ence? as  if  books  were  not  the  ever-burning  lamps  of 
accumulated  wisdom.  When  Voltaire  was  insulted 
by  the  London  mob,  he  turned  at  his  door  and  com-  5 
plimented  them  upon  the  nobleness  of  their  national 
character,  their  glorious  constitution,  and  their  love 
of  liberty.  The  London  mob  did  not  feel  the  sar- 
casm. But  when  I  hear  that  America  may  scorn  ex- 
perience because  she  is  a  law  to  herself,  I  remember  10 
that  a  few  years  ago  a  foreign  observer  came  to  the 
city  of  Washington,  and  said:  "  I  did  not  fully  com- 
prehend your  greatness  until  I  saw  your  Congress. 
Then  I  felt  that  if  you  could  stand  that  you  could  stand 
anything,  and  I  understood  the  saying  that  God  takes  15 
care  of  children,  drunken  men,  and  the  United  States." 
The  scholar  is  denounced  as  a  coward.  Humanity 
falls  among  thieves,  we  are  told,  and  the  college  Le- 
vite,  the  educated  Pharisee,  pass  by  on  the  other  side. 
Slavery  undermines  the  Republic,  but  the  clergy  in  20 
America  are  the  educated  class,  and  the  Church  makes 
itself  the  bulwark  of  slavery.  Strong  drink  slays  its 
tens  of  thousands,  but  the  educated  class  leaves  the 
gospel  of  temperance  to  be  preached  by  the  ignorant 
and  the  enthusiast,  as  the  English  Establishment  left  25 
the  preaching  of  regeneration  to  Methodist  itinerants 
in  fields  and  barns.  Vast  questions  cast  their  shadows 
upon  the  future:  the  just  relations  of  capital  and  labor; 
the  distribution  of  land;  the  towering  power  of  corpo- 
rate wealth;  reform  in  administrative  methods;  but  the  30 
educated  class,  says  the  critic,  instead  of  advancing  to 
deal  with  them  promptly,  wisely,  and  courageously, 
and  settling  them  as  morning  dissipates  the  night, 


26»  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

without  a  shock,  leaves  them  to  be  kindled  to  fury  by 
demagogues,  lifts  a  panic  cry  of  communism,  and 
sinks  paralyzed  with  terror.  It  is  the  old  accusation. 
Erasmus  was  the  great  pioneer  of  modern  scholarship. 
5  But  in  the  fierce  contest  of  the  Reformation  Luther 
denounced  him  as  a  time-server  and  a  coward.  With 
the  same  feeling,  Theodore  Parker,  the  spiritual  child 
of  Luther,  asked  of  Goethe,  "  Tell  me,  what  did  he  ever 
do  for  the  cause  of  man?  "  and  when  nothing  remained 

10  for  his  country  but  the  dread  alternative  of  slavery  or 
civil  war,  Parker  exclaimed  sadly  of  the  class  to  which 
he  belonged,  "  If  our  educated  men  had  done  their 
duty,  we  should  not  now  be  in  the  ghastly  condition 
we  bewail." 

15  Gentlemen,  we  belong  to  the  accused  class.  Its 
honor  and  dignity  are  very  precious  to  us.  Is  this 
humiliating  arraignment  true?  Does  the  educated 
class  of  America  especially  deserve  this  condemnation 
of  political  recreancy  and  moral  cowardice?  Faithless 

20  scholars,  laggard  colleges,  bigoted  pulpits,  there  may 
be;  signal  instances  you  may  find  of  feebleness  and 
pusillanimity.  This  has  been  always  true.  Leigh 
Hunt  said,  "  I  thought  that  my  Horace  and  Demos- 
thenes gave  me  a  right  to  sit  at  table  with  any  man, 

25  and  I  think  so  still."  But  when  De  Quincey  met  Dr. 
Parr,  who  knew  Horace  and  Demosthenes  better  than 
any  man  of  his  time,  he  described  him  as  a  lisping 
scandal-monger,  retailing  gossip  fit  only  for  washer- 
women to  hear.  During  the  earthquake  of  the  great 

3o  civil  war  in  England,  Sir  Thomas  Browne  sat  tran- 
quilly in  scholarly  seclusion,  polishing  the  conceits  of 
the  "  Urn  Burial,"  and  modulating  the  long-drawn 
music  of  the  "  Religio  Medici."  Looking  at  Browne 


THE  LEADERSHIP  OF  EDUCATED  MEN.      261 

and  Parr,  at  Erasmus  and  Goethe,  is  it  strange  that 
scholars  are  impatiently  derided  as  useless  pedants  or 
literary  voluptuaries,  and  that  the  whole  educated  class 
is  denounced  as  feeble  and  impracticable? 

But  remember  what  Coleridge  said  to  Washington  5 
Alston,  "  Never  judge  a  work  of  art  by  its  defects." 
The  proper  comment  to  make  upon  recreant  scholars 
is  that  of  Brummeirs  valet  upon  the  tumbled  cambric 
in  his  hands,  "  These  are  our  failures."  Luther,  impa- 
tient of  the  milder  spirit  of  Erasmus  and  Colet  and  10 
Sir  Thomas  More,  might  well  have  called  them  our 
failures,  because  he  was  of  their  class,  and  while  they 
counseled  moderation,  his  fiery  and  impetuous  soul 
sought  to  seize  triple-crowned  error  and  drag  it 
from  its  throne.  But  Luther  was  no  less  a  scholar,  15 
and  stands  equally  with  them  for  the  scholarly  class 
and  the  heroism  of  educated  men.  Even  Erasmus 
said  of  him  with  friendly  wit,  "  He  has  hit  the  Pope 
on  the  crown  and  the  monks  on  the  belly."  If  the 
cowled  scholars  of  the  Church  rejected  him,  and  uni-  20 
versities  under  their  control  renounced  and  con- 
demned him,  yet  Luther  is  justified  in  saying,  as  he 
sweeps  his  hand  across  them  and  speaks  for  himself 
and  for  the  scholars  who  stood  with  him,  "  These  are 
not  our  representatives;  these  are  our  failures."  25 

So  on  our  side  of  the  sea  the  educated  body  of  Puri- 
tan Massachusetts  Bay,  the  clergy  and  the  magistrates, 
drove  Roger  Williams  from  their  borders — Roger 
Williams,  also  a  scholar  and  a  clergyman,  and,  with 
John  Milton,  the  bright  consummate  flower  of  Puri-  30 
tanism.  But  shall  not  he  stand  for  the  scholar  rather 
than  Cotton  Mather,  torturing  terrified  old  women  to 
death  as  witches!  I  appeal  from  Philip  drunk  to 


262  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

Philip  sober — from  the  scholarship  that  silenced  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  and  hung  Mary  Dyer  and  pressed  Giles 
Corey  to  death,  to  the  scholarship  that  argued  with 
George  Fox  and  founded  a  political  commonwealth 

5  upon  soul-liberty.  A  year  ago  I  sat  with  my  brethren 
of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  at  Cambridge,  and  seemed  to 
catch  echoes  of  Edmund  Burke's  resounding  im- 
peachment of  Warren  Hastings  in  the  sparkling  de- 
nunciation of  the  timidity  of  American  scholarship. 

10  Under  the  spell  of  Burke's  burning  words  Hastings 
half  believed  himself  to  be  the  villain  he  heard 
described.  JBut  the  scholarly  audience  of  the  schol- 
arly orator  *  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  with  an  exquisite 
sense  of  relief,  felt  every  count  of  his  stinging  indict- 

15  ment  recoil  upon  himself.  He  was  the  glowing  refu- 
tation of  his  own  argument.  Gentleman,  scholar, 
orator — his  is  the  courage  that  never  quailed;  his  the 
white  plume  of  Navarre  that  flashed  meteor-like  in 
the  front  of  battle;  his  the  Amphion  music  of  an  elo- 

20  quence  that  leveled  the  more  than  Theban  walls  of 
American  slavery.  At  once  judge,  culprit,  and  ac- 
cuser, in  the  noble  record  of  his  own  life  he  and  his 
class  are  triumphantly  acquitted. 

Must  we  count  such   illustrations  as   exceptions? 

25  But  how  can  we  do  so  when  we  see  that  the  Reforma- 
tion, the  mental  and  moral  new  birth  of  Christendom, 
was  the  work  of  the  educated  class?  Follow  the 
movement  of  liberty  in  detail,  and  still  the  story  is  the 
same.  The  great  political  contest  in  England,  in- 

30  spired  by  the  Reformation,  was  directed  by  University 
men.     John  Pym  in  the  Commons,  John  Hampden  in 
the  field,  John  Milton  in  the  Cabinet — three  Johns, 
*  Wendell  Phillips. 


THE  LEADERSHIP   OF  EDUCATED  MEN.       263 

and  all  of  them  well-beloved  disciples  of  liberty — with 
the  grim  Oliver  himself,  purging  England  of  royal 
despotism,  and  avenging  the  slaughtered  saints  on 
Alpine  mountains  cold,  were  all  of  them  children  of 
Oxford  and  Cambridge.  In  the  next  century,  like  a  5 
dawn  lurid  but  bright,  the  French  Revolution  broke 
upon  the  world.  But  the  only  hope  of  a  wise  direc- 
tion of  the  elemental  forces  that  upheaved  France  van- 
ished when  the  educated  leadership  lost  control,  and 
Marat  became  the  genius  and  the  type  of  the  Revolu- 10 
tion.  Ireland  also  bears  witness.  As  its  apostle  and 
tutelary  saint  was  a  scholar,  so  its  long  despair  of 
justice  has  found  its  voice  and  its  hand  among  edu- 
cated Irishmen.  Swift  and  Molyneux,  and  Flood  and 
Grattan  and  O'Connell,  Duffy,  and  the  young  en- 15 
thusiasts  around  Thomas  Davis  who  sang  of  an  Erin 
that  never  was  and  dreamed  of  an  Ireland  that  cannot 
be,  were  men  of  the  colleges  and  the  schools,  whose 
long  persistence  of  tongue  and  pen  fostered  the  life 
of  their  country  and  gained  for  her  all  that  she  has  20 
won.  For  modern  Italy,  let  Silvio  Pellico  and  Foresti 
and  Maroncelli  answer.  It  was  Italian  education 
which  Austria  sought  to  smother,  and  it  was  not  less 
Cavour  than  Garibaldi  who  gave  constitutional  liberty 
to  Italy.  When  Germany  sank  at  Jena  under  the  heel  25 
of  Napoleon,  and  Stein — whom  Napoleon  hated,  but 
could  not  appall — asked  if  national  life  survived,  the 
answer  rang  from  the  universities,  and  from  them 
modern  Germany  came  forth.  With  prophetic  im- 
pulse Theodore  Koerner  called  his  poems  "  The  Lyre  30 
and  the  Sword,"  for,  like  the  love  which  changed  the 
sea-nymph  into  the  harp,  the  fervent  patriotism  of 
the  educated  youth  of  Cermany  turned  the  poet's  lyre 


264  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

into  the  soldier's  victorious  sword.  In  the  splendor 
of  our  American  day  let  us  remember  and  honor  our 
brethren,  first  in  every  council,  dead  upon  every  field 
of  freedom  from  the  Volga  to  the  Rhine,  from  John 

5  o'  Groat's  to  the  Adriatic,  who  have  steadily  drawn 
Europe  from  out  the  night  of  despotism,  and  have 
vindicated  for  the  educated  class  the  leadership  of 
modern  civilization. 

Here  in  America,  where  as  yet  there  are  no  ruins 

10  save  those  of  ancient  wrongs,  undoubtedly  New  Eng- 
land has  inspired  and  molded  our  national  life.  But 
if  New  England  has  led  the  Union,  what  has  led  New 
England?  Her  scholarly  class.  Her  educated  men. 
And  our  Roger  Williams  gave  the  key-note.  "  He 

15  has  broached  and  divulged  new  and  dangerous  opin- 
ions against  the  authority  of  magistrates,"  said  Massa- 
chusetts as  she  banished  him.  A  century  later  his 
dangerous  opinions  had  captured  Massachusetts. 
Young  Sam  Adams,  taking  his  Master's  degree  at 

20  Cambridge,  argued  that  it  was  lawful  to  resist  the 
supreme  magistrate  if  the  State  could  not  otherwise 
be  preserved.  He  was  a  college  stripling.  But  seven 
years  afterward,  in  1750,  the  chief  pulpit  orator  in 
New  England,  Jonathan  Mayhew,  preached  in  Bos- 

25  ton  the  famous  sermon  which  Thornton  called  the 
morning  gun  of  the  Revolutionr  applying  to  the  politi- 
cal situation  the  principles  of  Roger  Williams.  The 
New  England  pulpit  echoed  and  re-echoed  that  morn- 
ing gun,  arousing  the  country,  and  twenty-five  years 

3o  later  its  warning  broke  into  the  rattle  of  musketry  at 
Lexington  and  Concord  and  the  glorious  thunder  of 
Bunker  Hill. 

It  was  a  son  of  Harvard,  James  Otis,  who  proposed 


THE  LEADERSHIP  OF  EDUCATED  MEN.      265 

the  assembly  of  an  American  congress  without  asking 
the  king's  leave.  It  was  a  son  of  Yale,  John  Morin 
Scott,  who  declared  that  if  taxation  without  repre- 
sentation were  to  be  enforced,  the  colonies  ought  to 
separate  from  England.  It  was  a  group  of  New  5 
York  scholars,  John  Jay  and  Scott  and  the  Living- 
stones, which  spoke  for  the  colony  in  response  to  the 
Boston  Port  Bill  and  proposed  the  Continental  Con- 
gress. It  was  a  New  England  scholar  in  that  Con- 
gress, whom  Rufus  Choate  declared  to  be  the  10 
distinctive  and  comprehensive  orator  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, John  Adams,  who,  urging  every  argument, 
touching  every  stop  of  passion,  pride,  tenderness,  in- 
terest, conscience,  and  lofty  indignation,  swept  up  his 
country  as  into  a  chariot  of  fire  and  soared  to  15 
independence. 

I  do  not  forget  that  Virginian  tongue  of  flame, 
Patrick  Henry,  nor  that  patriotism  of  the  field  and 
fireside  which  recruited  the  Sons  of  Liberty.  The 
inspiring  statue  of  the  Minute  Man  at  Concord — and  20 
a  nobler  memorial  figure  does  not  stand  upon  our  soil 
— commemorates  the  spirit  that  left  the  plow  stand- 
ing in  the  furrow,  that  drew  Nathaniel  Greene  from 
his  anvil  and  Esek  Hopkins  from  his  farm;  the  spirit 
that  long  before  had  sent  the  poor  parishioners  of  25 
Scrooby  to  Holland,  and  filled  the  victorious  ranks 
of  the  Commonwealth  at  Naseby  and  at  Marston 
Moor.  But  in  America  as  in  England  they  were  edu- 
cated men  who  in  the  pulpit,  on  the  platform,  and 
through  the  press,  conducted  the  mighty  preliminary  30 
argument  of  the  Revolution,  defended  the  ancient  tra- 
ditions of  English  liberty  against  reactionary  England, 
aroused  the  colonists  to  maintain  the  cause  of  human 


i66  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

nature,  and  led  them  from  the  Gaspee  and  Bunker 
Hill  across  the  plains  of  Saratoga,  the  snows  of  Valley 
Forge,  the  sands  of  Monmouth,  the  hills  of  Carolina, 
until  at  Yorktown  once  more  the  king  surrendered  to 
5  the  people,  and  educated  America  had  saved  constitu- 
tional liberty. 

In  the  next  brief  and  critical  period,  when  through 
the  travail  of  a  half-anarchical  confederation  the  inde- 
pendent States,  always  instinctively  tending  to  union, 
10  rose  into  a  rural  constitutional  republic,  the  good 
genius  of  America  was  still  the  educated  mind  of  the 
country.  Of  the  fifty-five  members  of  the  Conven- 
tion, which  Bancroft,  changing  the  poet's  line,  calls 
"  the  goodliest  fellowship  of  law-givers  whereof  this 
15  world  holds  record,"  thirty-three  were  college  grad- 
uates, and  the  eight  leaders  of  the  great  debate  were  all 
college  men.  The  Convention  adjourned,  and  while 
from  out  the  strong  hand  of  George  Clinton,  Hamil- 
ton, the  son  of  Columbia,  drew  New  York  into  the 
20  Union,  that  placid  son  of  Princeton,  James  Madison, 
withstanding  the  fiery  energy  of  Patrick  Henry, 
placed  Virginia  by  her  side.  Then  Columbia  and 
Princeton  uniting  in  Hamilton,  Jay,  and  Madison,  in- 
terpreted the  Constitution  in  that  greatest  of  com- 
as mentaries,  which,  as  the  dome  crowns  the  Capitol, 
completed  the  majestic  argument  which  long  before 
the  sons  of  Harvard  had  begun.  Take  away  the 
scholarly  class  from  the  discussion  that  opened  the 
Revolution,  from  the  deliberations  that  guided  it, 
30  from  the  debates  of  the  Constitutional  Convention  that 
ended  it — would  the  advance  of  America  have  been 
more  triumphant?  Would  the  guarantees  of  individ- 
ual liberty,  of  national  union,  of  a  common  prosperity, 


THE  LEADERSHIP  Of  EDUCATED  MEN.      267 

have  been  more  surely  established?  The  critics 
laughed  at  the  pictured  grapes  as  unnatural.  But  the 
painter  was  satisfied  when  the  birds  came  and  pecked 
at  them.  Daily  the  educated  class  is  denounced  as 
impracticable  and  visionary.  But  the  Constitution  of  5 
the  United  States  is  the  work  of  American  scholars. 

Doubtless  the  leaders  expressed  a  sentiment  which 
was  shared  by  the  men  and  women  around  them.  But 
it  was  they  who  had  formed  and  fostered  that  senti- 
ment. They  were  not  the  puppets  of  the  crowd,  light  10 
weathercocks  which  merely  snowed  the  shifting  gusts 
of  popular  feeling.  They  did  not  follow  what  they 
could  not  resist,  and  make  their  voices  the  tardy  echo 
of  a  thought  they  did  not  share.  They  were  not 
dainty  and  feeble  hermits  because  they  were  educated  15 
men.  They  were  equal  citizens  with  the  rest;  men  of 
strong  convictions  and  persuasive  speech,  who  showed 
their  brethren  what  they  ought  to  think  and  do.  That 
is  the  secret  of  leadership.  It  is  not  servility  to  the 
mob,  it  is  not  giving  vehement  voice  to  popular  20 
frenzy,  that  makes  a  leader.  That  makes  a  dema- 
gogue; Cleon,  not  Pericles;  Catiline,  not  Cicero. 
Leadership  is  the  power  of  kindling  a  sympathy  and 
trust  which  will  eagerly  follow.  It  is  the  genius  that 
molds  the  lips  of  the  stony  Memnon  to  such  sensitive  25 
life  that  the  first  sunbeam  of  opportunity  strikes  them 
into  music.  In  a  great  crisis  it  is  thinking  so  as  to 
make  others  think,  feeling  so  as  to  make  others  feel, 
which  tips  the  orator's  tongue  with  fire  that  lights  as 
well  as  burns.  So  when  Lord  Chatham  stood  at  the  30 
head  of  England  organizing  her  victories  by  land  and 
sea,  and  told  in  Parliament  their  splendid  story,  his 
glowing  form  was  Britain's  self,  and  the  roar  of  British 


268  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

guns  and  the  proud  acclamation  of  British  hearts  all 
around  the  globe  flashed  and  thundered  in  his  elo- 
quence. "  This  is  a  glorious  morning,"  said  the 
scholar  Samuel  Adams,  with  a  price  set  on  his  head, 
5  as  he  heard  the  guns  at  Lexington.  "  Decus  et  de- 
corum est,"  said  the  young  scholar  Joseph  Warren 
gayly,  as  he  passed  to  his  death  on  Bunker  Hill. 
They  spoke  for  the  lofty  enthusiasm  of  patriotism 
which  they  had  kindled.  It  was  not  a  mob,  an  igno- 

10  rant  multitude  swayed  by  a  mysterious  impulse;  it 
was  a  body  of  educated  men,  wise  and  heroic  because 
they  were  educated,  who  lifted  this  country  to  inde- 
pendence and  laid  deep  and  strong  the  foundations  of 
the  Republic. 

15  Is  this  less  true  of  the  maintenance  and  develop- 
ment of  the  government?  Thirty  years  ago,  walking 
on  the  Cliff  at  Newport  with  Mr.  Bancroft,  I  asked 
him  to  what  point  he  proposed  to  continue  his  history. 
He  answered:  "  If  I  were  an  artist  painting  a  picture 

20  of  this  ocean,  my  work  would  stop  at  the  horizon. 
I  can  see  no  further.  My  history  will  end  with  the 
adoption  of  the.  Constitution.  All  beyond  that  is  ex- 
periment." This  was  long  ago.  But  the  Republic 
is  an  experiment  no  longer.  It  has  been  strained  to 

25  the  utmost  along  the  very  vital  fiber  of  its  frame,  and 
it  has  emerged  from  the  ordeal  recreated.  Happy 
venerable  historian,  who  has  survived  both  to  witness 
the  triumph  of  the  experiment,  and  to  complete  his 
stately  story  to  the  very  point  which  he  contemplated 

30  thirty  years  ago!  He  has  reached  what  was  then  the 
horizon,  and  may  a  gracious  Providence  permit  him 
yet  to  depict  the  new  and  further  and  radiant  prospect 
which  he  and  all  his  countrvmen  behold! 


THE  LEADERSHIP  Of  EDUCATED  MEN.     269 

In  achieving  this  great  result  has  educated  America 
been  sluggish  or  skeptical  or  cowardly?  The  Consti- 
tution was  but  ten  years  old  when  the  author  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  speaking  with  great 
authority  and  for  a  great  party,  announced  that  the  5 
Constitution  was  a  compact  of  which  every  State  must 
judge  for  itself  both  the  fact  of  violation  and  the  mode 
of  redress.  Jefferson  sowed  dragon's  teeth  in  the 
fresh  soil  of  the  young  Union.  He  died,  but  the 
armed  men  appeared.  The  whole  course  of  our  poli-  10 
tics  for  nearly  a  century  was  essentially  revolutionary. 
Beneath  all  specific  measures  and  party  policies  lay 
the  supreme  question  of  the  nature  of  the  government 
which  Jefferson  had  raised.  Is  the  Union  a  league 
or  a  nation?  Are  we  built  upon  the  solid  earth  or  15 
unstably  encamped,  like  Sindbad's  company,  upon  the 
back  of  a  sea-monster  which  may  dive  at  any  moment? 
Until  this  doubt  was  settled  there  could  be  no  peace. 
Yet  the  question  lay  in  our  politics  only  like  the  far 
black  cloud  along  the  horizon,  flashing  and  muttering  20 
scarce  heard  thunders  until  the  slavery  agitation  be- 
gan. That  was  a  debate  which  devoured  every  other, 
until  the  slave-power,  foiled  in  the  hope  of  continental 
empire,  pleaded  Jefferson's  theory  of  the  Constitution 
as  an  argument  for  national  dissolution.  This  was  25 
the  third  great  crisis  of  the  country,  and  in  the 
tremendous  contention,  as  in  the  war  that  fol- 
lowed, was  the  American  scholar  recreant  and 
dumb? 

I  do  not  ask,  for  it  is  not  necessary,  whether  in  the  30 
ranks  of  the  powerful  host  that  resisted  agitation  there 
were  not  scholars  and  educated  men.     I  do  not  ask 
whether  the  educated  or  any  other  class  alone  main- 


270  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

tained  the  fight,  nor  whether  there  were  not  unquail- 
ing  leaders  who  were  not  educated  men,  nor  whether 
all  were  first,  or  all  approved  the  same  methods,  or  all 
were  equally  wise  or  equally  zealous.  Of  course,  I 

5  make  no  exclusive  claim.  I  do  not  now  speak  of 
men  like  Garrison,  whose  name  is  that  of  a  great 
patriot  and  a  great  human  benefactor,  and  whose 
sturdy  leadership  was  that  of  an  old  Hebrew  prophet. 
But  was  the  great  battle  fought  anyi  won  while  we 

10  and  our  guild  stood  passive  and  hostile  by? 

The  slavery  agitation  began  with  the  moral  appeal, 
and  as  in  the  dawn  of  the  Revolution  educated  Amer- 
ica spoke  in  the  bugle  note  of  James  Otis,  so  in  the 
moral  onset  of  the  antislavery  agitation  rings  out  the 

15  clear  voice  of  a  son  of  Otis'  college,  himself  the  Otis 
of  the  later  contest,  Wendell  Phillips.  By  his  side,  in 
the  stormy  dawn  of  the  movement,  stands  a  grandson 
of  Quincy  of  the  Revolution,  and  among  the  earliest 
antislavery  leaders  is  more  than  a  proportionate  part 

20  of  liberally  educated  men.  In  Congress  the  com- 
manding voice  for  freedom  was  that  of  the  most 
learned,  experienced,  and  courageous  of  American 
statesmen,  the  voice  of  a  scholar  and  an  old  college 
professor,  John  Quincy  Adams.  Whittier's  burning 

25  words  scattered  the  sacred  fire,  Longfellow  and  Low- 
ell mingled  their  songs  with  his,  and  Emerson  gave 
to  the  cause  the  loftiest  scholarly  heart  in  the  Union. 
And  while  Parker's  and  Beecher's  pulpits  echoed 
Jonathan  Mayhew's  morning  gun  and  fired  words  like 

30  cannon-balls,  in  the  highest  pulpit  of  America,  fore- 
most among  the  champions  of  liberty  stood  the  slight 
and  radiant  figure  of  the  scholarly  son  of  Rhode 
Island,  upon  whom  more  than  upon  any  of  her  chil- 


THE  LEADERSHIP  OF  EDUCATED  MEN.      271 

dren  the  mantle  of  Roger  Williams  had  worthily  fallen, 
William  Ellery  Channing. 

When  the  national  debate  was  angriest,  it  was  the 
scholar  of  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  who  held 
highest  in  his  undaunted  hands  the  flag  of  humanity  5 
and  his  country.     While  others  bowed  and  bent  and 
broke  around  him,  the  form  of  Charles  Sumner  tow- 
ered erect.     Commerce  and  trade,  the  mob  of  the 
clubs  and  of  the  street,  hissed  and  sneered  at  him  as 
a  pedantic  dreamer  and  fanatic.     No  kind  of  insult  10 
and  defiance  was  spared.     But  the  unbending  scholar 
revealed  to  the  haughty  foe  an  antagonist  as  proud 
and  resolute  as  itself.     He  supplied  what  the  hour  de- 
manded, a  sublime  faith  in  liberty,  the  uncompromis- 
ing spirit  which  interpreted  the  Constitution  and  the  15 
statutes  for  freedom  and  not  for  slavery.     The  fiery 
agitation  became  bloody  battle.      Still  he  strode  on 
before.     "  I   am  only  six  weeks  behind  you,"   said 
Abraham  Lincoln,  the  Western  frontiersman,  to  the 
New  England  scholar;  and  along  the  path  that  the  20 
scholar  blazed  in  the  wild  wilderness  of  civil  war,  the 
path  of  emancipation,  and  the  constitutional  equality 
of  all  citizens,  his  country  followed  fast  to  union,  peace, 
and  prosperity.      The  public  service  of  this  scholar 
was  not  less  than  that  of  any  of  his  predecessors  or  25 
any  of  his  contemporaries.     Criticise  him  as  you  will, 
mark  every  shadow  you  can  find, 

"  Though  round  his  base  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  his  head." 

It  would  indeed  be  a  sorrowful  confession  for  this  30 
day  and  this  assembly,  to  own  that  experience  proves 
the  air  of  the  college  to  be  suffocating  to  generous 


27*  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

thought  and  heroic  action.  Here  it  would  be  espe- 
cially unjust,  for  what  son  of  this  college  does  not 
proudly  remember  that  when,  in  the  Revolution, 
Rhode  Island  was  the  seat  of  war,  the  college 

5  boys  left  the  recitation-room  for  the  field,  and  the 
college  became  a  soldiers'  barrack  and  hospital?  And 
what  son  of  any  college  in  the  land,  what  educated 
American,  does  not  recall  with  grateful  pride  that 
legion  of  college  youth  in  our  own  day — "  Integer 

10  vitae  scelerisque  purus  " — who  were  not  cowards  or 
sybarites  because  they  were  scholars,  but  whose  con- 
secration to  the  cause  of  country  and  man  vindicated 
the  words  of  John  Milton,  "  A  complete  and  generous 
education  is  that  which  fits  a  man  to  perform  justly, 

15  skillfully,  and  magnanimously  all  the  offices,  both 
private  and  public,  of  peace  and  war  "?  That  is  the 
praise  of  the  American  scholar.  The  glory  of  this 
day  and  of  this  Commencement  season  is  that  the 
pioneers,  the  courageous  and  independent  leaders  in 

20  public  affairs,  the  great  apostles  of  religious  and  civil 
liberty,  have  been,  in  large  part,  educated  men,  sus- 
tained by  the  sympathy  of  the  educated  class. 

But  this  is  not  true  of  the  past  alone.     As  educated 
America  was  the  constructive  power,  so  it  is  still  the 

25  true  conservative  force  of  the  Republic.  It  is  decried 
as  priggish  and  theoretical.  But  so  Richard  Henry 
Lee  condemned  the  Constitution  as  the  work  of 
visionaries.  They  are  always  called  visionaries 
who  hold  that  morality  is  stronger  than  a  majority. 

30  Goldwin  Smith  says  that  Cobden  felt  that  at  heart 
England  was  a  gentleman  and  not  a  bully.  So 
thinks  the  educated  American  of  his  own  country. 
He  has  faith  enough  in  the  people  to  appeal  to 


THE  LEADERSHIP   OF  EDUCATED  MEN.       273 

them  against  themselves,  for  he  knows  that  the  car- 
dinal condition  of  popular  government  is  the  ability 
of  the  people  to  see  and  correct  their  own  errors.  In 
a  Republic,  as  the  majority  must  control  action,  the 
majority  tends  constantly  to  usurp  control  of  opinion.  5 
Its  decree  is  accepted  as  the  standard  of  right  and 
wrong.  To  differ  is  grotesque  and  eccentric.  To  pro- 
test is  preposterous.  To  defy  is  incendiary  and  revo- 
lutionary. But  just  here  interposes  educated  intelli- 
gence, and  asserts  the  worth  of  self-reliance  and  the  10 
power  of  the  individual.  Gathering  the  wisdom  of 
ages  as  into  a  sheaf  of  sunbeams,  it  shows  that  prog- 
ress springs  from  the  minority,  and  that  if  it  will  but 
stand  fast  time  will  give  it  victory. 

It  is  the  educated  voice  of  the  country  which  teaches  15 
patience  in  politics  and  strengthens  the  conscience  of 
the  individual  citizen  by  showing  that  servility  to  a 
majority  is  as  degrading  as  servility  to  a  Sultan  or 
a  Grand  Lama.     Emerson  said  that  of  all  his  friends 
he  honored  none  more  than  a  quiet  old  Quaker  lady  20 
who,  if  she  said  yea  and  the  whole  world  said  nay, 
still  said  yea.     One  of  the  pleasantest  stories  of  Gar- 
field  is  that  of  his  speech  to  his  constituents  in  which 
he   quaintly   vindicated   his   own   independence.     "  I 
would  do  anything  to  win  your  regard,"  he  said,  "  but  25 
there  is  one  man  whose  good  opinion  I  must  have 
above   all,   and    without   whose   approval  I    can    do 
nothing.     That  is  the  man  with  whom  I  get  up  every 
morning  and  go  to  bed  every  night,  whose  thoughts 
are  my  thoughts,  whose  prayers  are  my  prayers;  130 
cannot  buy  your  confidence  at  the  cost  of  his  respect." 
Never  was  the  scholarly  Garfield  so  truly  a  man,  so 
patriotically  an  American,  and  his  constituents  were 


274  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

prouder  than  ever  of  their  representative  who  com- 
plimented them  by  asserting  his  own  manhood. 

It  is  the  same  voice  which  exposes  the  sophists  who 
mislead  the  mob  and  pitilessly  scourges  the  dema- 

5  gogues  who  flatter  it.  "  All  men  know  more  than 
any  man,"  haughtily  shout  the  larger  and  lesser 
Talleyrantfs.  That  is  a  French  epigram,  replies  the 
scholar,  but  not  a  general  truth.  A  crowd  is  not 
wiser  than  the  wisest  man  in  it.  For  the  purposes  of 

10  the  voyage  the  crew  does  not  know  more  than  the 
master  of  the  ship.  The  Boston  town-meeting  was 
not  more  sagacious  than  Sam  Adams.  "  Vox  populi 
vox  Dei,"  screams  the  foaming  rhetoric  of  the  stump; 
the  voice  of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God.  The 

15  voice  of  the  people  in  London,  says  history,  declared 
against  street-lamps  and  denounced  inoculation  as 
wanton  wickedness.  The  voice  of  the  people  in  Paris 
demanded  the  head  of  Charlotte  Corday.  The  voice 
of  the  people  in  Jerusalem  cried,  "Away  with  Himl 

20  crucify  Him !  crucify  Him !  "  "  God  is  on  the  side  of 
the  strongest  battalions,"  sneers  the  party  swindler 
who  buys  a  majority  with  money  or  place.  On  the 
contrary,  answers  the  cool  critic,  reading  history  and 
interpreting  its  lessons,  God  was  with  Leonidas,  and 

25  not  with  Xerxes.  He  was  with  the  exile  John  Robin- 
son at  Leyden,  not  with  Laud  and  the  hierarchy  at 
Westminster. 

Despite   Napoleon   even  battles  are  not   sums  in 
arithmetic.     Strange  that  a  general,   half  of  whose 

30  success  was  due  to  a  sentiment,  the  glory  of  France, 
which  welded  his  army  into  a  thunderbolt,  and  still 
burns  for  us  in  the  fervid  song  of  Beranger,  should 
have  supposed  that  it  is  numbers  and  not  conviction 


THE  LEADERSHIP  OF  EDUCATED  MEN.      275 

and  enthusiasm  which  win  the  final  victory.  The  ca- 
reer of  no  man  in  our  time  illustrates  this  truth  more 
signally  than  Garibaldi's.  He  was  the  symbol  of  the 
sentiment  which  the  wise  Cavour  molded  into  a  na- 
tion, and  he  will  be  always  canonized  more  universally  5 
than  any  other  Italian  patriot,  because  no  other  repre- 
sents so  purely  and  simply  to  the  national  imagination 
the  Italian  ideal  of  patriotic  devotion.  His  enthusi- 
asm of  conviction  made  no  calculation  of  defeat,  be- 
cause while  he  could  be  baffled  he  could  not  be  beaten.  10 
It  was  a  stream  flowing  from  a  mountain  height, 
which  might  be  delayed  or  diverted,  but  knew  instinct- 
ively that  it  must  reach  the  sea.  "  Italia  fard  da  se." 
Garibaldi  was  that  faith  incarnate,  and  the  prophecy  is 
fulfilled.  Italy,  more  proud  than  stricken,  bears  his  15 
bust  to  the  Capitol,  and  there  the  eloquent  marble  will 
say,  while  Rome  endures,  that  one  man  with  God, 
with  country,  with  duty  and  conscience,  is  at  last  the 
majority. 

But  still  further,  it  is  educated  citizenship  which,  20 
while  defining  the  rightful  limitation  of  the  power  of 
the  majority,  is  most  loyal  to  its  legitimate  authority, 
and  foremost  always  in  rescuing  it  from  the  treachery 
of  political  peddlers  and  parasites.     The  rural  states- 
men who  founded  the  Republic  saw  in  vision  a  homo-  25 
geneous  and   intelligent   community,   the   peace   and 
prosperity  and  intelligence  of  the  State  reflected  in  the 
virtue  and  wisdom  of  the  government.     But  is  this 
our  actual  America  or  a  glimpse  of  Arcadia?     Is  this 
the  United  States  or  Plato's  Republic  or  Harrington's  30 
Oceana  or  Sir  Thomas  More's  Utopia?     What  are  the 
political  maxims  of  the  hour?     In  Rome,  do  as  the 
Romans  do.     Fight  fire  with  fire.     Beat  the  devil  with 


*76  GEORGE    WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

his  own  weapons.  Take  men  as  they  are,  and  don't 
affect  superior  goodness.  Beware  of  the  politics  of 
the  moon  and  of  Sunday-school  statesmanship.  This 
is  our  current  political  wisdom  and  the  results  are 
5  familiar.  "  This  is  a  nasty  State,"  cries  the  eager  par- 
tisan, "  and  I  hope  we  have  done  nasty  work  enough 
to  carry  it."  "  The  conduct  of  the  opposition,"  says 
another,  "  was  infamous.  They  resorted  to  every 
kind  of  base  and  contemptible  means,  and,  thank  God, 

10  we  have  beaten  them  at  their  own  game."  The  ma- 
jority is  overthrown  by  the  political  machinery  in- 
tended to  secure  its  will.  The  machinery  is  oiled  by 
corruption  and  grinds  the  honest  majority  to  powder. 
And  it  is  educated  citizenship,  the  wisdom  and  energy 

15  of  men  who  are  classed  as  prigs,  pedants,  and  imprac- 
ticables,  which  is  first  and  most  efficient  in  breaking 
the  machinery  and  releasing  the  majority.  It  was  this 
which  rescued  New  York  from  Tweed,  and  which 
everywhere  challenges  and  demolishes  a  Tweed 

20  tyranny  by  whatever  name  it  may  be  known. 

Every  year  at  the  college  Commencement  the 
American  scholar  is  exhorted  to  do  his  duty.  But 
every  newspaper  proves  that  he  is  doing  it.  For  he 
is  the  most  practical  politician  who  shows  his  fellow- 

25  citizens,  as  the  wise  old  sailor  told  his  shipmates,  that 
"  God  has  somehow  so  fixed  the  world  that  a  man  can 
afford  to  do  about  right."  Take  from  the  country  at 
this  moment  the  educated  power,  which  is  contemned 
as  romantic  and  sentimental,  and  you  would  take 

30  from  the  army  its  general,  from  the  ship  its  compass, 
from  national  action  its  moral  mainspring.  It  is  not 
the  demagogue  and  the  shouting  rabble;  it  is  the 
people  heeding  the  word  of  the  thinker  and  the  lesson 


THE  LEADERSHIP   OF  EDUCATED  MEN.       277 

of  experience,  which  secures  the  welfare  of  the  Ameri- 
can republic  and  enlarges  human  liberty.  If  Ameri- 
can scholarship  is  not  in  place,  it  is  in  power.  If  it 
does  not  carry  the  election  to-day,  it  determines  the 
policy  of  to-morrow.  Calm,  patient,  confident,  heroic,  5 
in  our  busy  and  material  life  it  perpetually  vindicates 
the  truth  that  the  things  which  are  unseen  are  eternal. 
So  in  the  cloudless  midsummer  sky  serenely  shines  the 
moon,  while  the  tumultuous  ocean  rolls  and  murmurs 
beneath,  the  type  of  illimitable  and  unbridled  power;  10 
but,  resistlessly  marshaled  by  celestial  laws,  all  the 
wild  waters,  heaving  from  pole  to  pole,  rise  and  re- 
cede, obedient  to  the  mild  queen  of  heaven. 

Brethren  of  Brown,  we  have  come  hither  as  our 
fathers  came,  as  our  children  will  come,  to  renew  our  15 
observation  of  that  celestial  law;  and  here,  upon  the 
old  altar  of  fervid  faith  and  boundless  anticipation,  let 
us  pledge  ourselves  once  more  that,  as  the  courage 
and  energy  of  educated  men  fired  the  morning  gun 
and  led  the  contest  of  the  Revolution,  founded  and  20 
framed  the  Union  and,  purifying  it  as  with  fire,  have 
maintained  the  national  life  to  this  hour,  so,  day  by 
day,  we  will  do  our  part  to  lift  America  above  the 
slough  of  mercenary  politics  and  the  cunning  snares 
of  trade,  steadily  forward  toward  the  shining  heights  ** 
which  the  hopes  pf  its  nativity  foretold. 


THE  AFTER-DINNER  ADDRESS. 

HENRY   W.    GRADY. 

Born  1850.     Died  1889. 
THE    NEW   SOUTH. 

[The  New  England  Society  of  New  York  City,  whose  dinners  are 
famous  for  their  oratory,  has  had,  at  one  time  or  another,  nearly  all 
the  great  speakers  of  the  North  as  guests  at  its  board.  But  no  South- 
erner was  ever  so  honored  until,  to  the  eighty-first  annual  banquet  held 
on  December  22,  1886,  Mr.  Grady,  then  known  only  as  the  progress 
ive  editor  of  the  leading  paper  of  Atlanta,  was  invited  and  asked  to 
speak  on  the  South.  Although  not  his  first  visit,  the  occasion  was 
his  real  introduction  to  the  North.  Around  him  were  men  distin- 
guished in  all  walks  of  life,  among  them  General  Sherman,  whose 
name  no  Georgian  in  many  years  is  likely  to  forget.  Preceding  him 
next  but  one  in  the  order  of  speaking  was  Dr.  Talmage,  who 
described  the  review  of  the  Federal  armies  in  Washington  in 
1865.  Afterward  Mr.  Grady  said,  "  When  I  found  myself  on  my 
feet,  every  nerve  in  my  body  was  strung  as  tight  as  a  fiddle  string, 
and  all  tingling.  I  knew  then  that  I  had  a  message  for  that  assem- 
blage, and  as  soon  as  I  opened  my  mouth  it  came  rushing  out." 
What  he  said  was  as  successful  as  it  was  unpremeditated.  The  speech 
was  reported  over  the  whole  country  and  at  once  gave  him  a  national 
reputation.  It  was  called  by  the  New  York  Times  the  greatest 
speech  ever  made  by  a  Southerner  in  New  York.] 

"  There  was  a  South  of  slavery  and  secession — that 
South  is  dead.     There  is  a  South  of  union  and  free- 
dom— that   South,   thank   God,   is   living,   breathing, 
growing  every  hour."    These  words,  delivered  from 
5  the  immortal  lips  of  Benjamin  H.  Hill,  at  Tammany 


THE  NEW  SOUTft.  *79 

Hall,  in  1866,  true  then,  and  truer  now,  I  shall  make 
my  text  to-night. 

Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen:  Let  me  express  to 
you  my  appreciation  of  the  kindness  by  which  I  am 
permitted  to  address  you.     I  make  this  abrupt  ac-   5 
knowledgment  advisedly,  for  I  feel  that  if,  when  I 
raised  my  provincial  voice  in  this  ancient  and  august 
presence,  I  could  find  courage  for  no  more  than  the 
opening  sentence,  it  would  be  well  if,  in  that  sentence, 
I  had  met  in  a  rough  sense  my  obligation  as  a  guest,  10 
and  had  perished,  so  to  speak,  with  courtesy  on  my 
lips  and  grace  in  my  heart. 

Permitted,  through  your  kindness,  to  catch  my 
second  wind,  let  me  say  that  I  appreciate  the  signifi- 
cance of  being  the  first  Southerner  to  speak  at  this  15 
board,  which  bears  the  substance,  if  it  surpasses  the 
semblance  of  original  New  England  hospitality,  and 
honors  a  sentiment  that  in  turn  honors  you,  but  in 
which  my  personality  is  lost  and  the  compliment  to 
my  people  made  plain.  20 

I  bespeak  the  utmost  stretch  of  your  courtesy  to- 
night. I  am  not  troubled  about  those  from  whom  I 
come.  You  remember  the  man  whose  wife  sent  him 
to  a  neighbor  with  a  pitcher  of  milk,  and  who,  tripping 
on  the  top  step,  fell,  with  such  casual  interruptions  as  25 
the  landings  afforded,  into  the  basement;  and,  while 
picking  himself  up,  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  his 
wife  call  out: 

"  John,  did  you  break  the  pitcher?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  said  John,  "  but  I  be  dinged  if  I  30 
don't." 

So,  while  those  who  call  to  me  from  behind  may  in- 
spire me  with  energy,  if  not  with  courage,  I  ask  an 


2>  HENRY   W.    GRADY. 

indulgent  hearing  from  you.  I  beg  that  you  will 
bring  your  full  faith  in  American  fairness  and  frank- 
ness to  judgment  upon  what  I  shall  say.  There  was 
an  old  preacher  once  who  told  some  boys  of  the  Bible 
5  lesson  he  was  going  to  read  in  the  morning.  The 
boys,  finding  the  place,  glued  together  the  connecting 
pages.  The  next  morning  he  read  on  the  bottom  of 
one  page :  "  When  Noah  was  one  hundred  and  twenty 
years  old  he  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  who  was  "  then 

10  turning  the  page,  "  one  hundred  and  forty  cubits  long, 
forty  cubits  wide,  built  of  gopher  wood,  and  covered 
with  pitch  inside  and  out."  He  was  naturally  puzzled 
at  this.  He  read  it  again,  verified  it,  and  then  said: 
"  My  friends,  this  is  the  first  time  I  ever  met  this  in 

15  the  Bible,  but  I  accept  it  as  an  evidence  of  the  asser- 
tion that  we  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made."  If 
I  could  get  you  to  hold  such  faith  to-night,  I  could 
proceed  cheerfully  to  the  task  I  otherwise  approach 
with  a  sense  of  consecration. 

20  Pardon  me  one  word,  Mr.  President,  spoken  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  getting  into  the  volumes  that  go  out 
annually  freighted  with  the  rich  eloquence  of  your 
speakers — the  fact  that  the  Cavalier,  as  well  as  the 
Puritan,  was  on  the  continent  in  its  early  days,  and 

25  that  he  was  "  up  and  able  to  be  about."  I  have  read 
your  books  carefully  and  I  find  no  mention  of  that 
fact,  which  seems  to  me  an  important  one  for  preserv- 
ing a  sort  of  historical  equilibrium,  if  for  nothing  else. 
Let  me  remind  you  that  the  Virginia  Cavalier  first 

30  challenged  France  on  this  continent,  that  Cavalier 
John  Smith  gave  New  England  its  very  name,  and 
was  so  pleased  with  the  job  that  he  has  been  handing 
his  own  name  around  ever  since,  and  that  while  Miles 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  281 

Standish  was  cutting  off  men's  ears  for  courting  a 
girl  without  her  parents'  consent,  and  forbade  men  to 
kiss  their  wives  on  Sunday,  the  Cavalier  was  courting 
everything  in  sight,  and  that  the  Almighty  had  vouch- 
safed great  increase  to  the  Cavalier  colonies,  the  huts  5 
in  the  wilderness  being  as  full  as  the  nests  in  the 
woods. 

But  having  incorporated  the  Cavalier  as  a  fact  in 
your  charming  little  book,  I  shall  let  him  work  out  his 
own  salvation,  as  he  has  always  done  with  engaging  10 
gallantry,  and  we  will  hold  no  controversy  as  to  his 
merits.     Why  should  we?     Neither  Puritan  nor  Cava- 
lier long  survived  as  such.     The  virtues  and  traditions 
of  both  happily  still  live  for  the  inspiration  of  their 
sons  and  the  saving  of  the  old  fashion.     Both  Puritan  15 
and  Cavalier  were  lost  in  the  storm  of  the  first  Revolu- 
tion, and  the  American  citizen,  supplanting  both,  and 
stronger  than  either,  took  possession  of  the  republic 
bought  by  their  common  blood  and  fashioned  to  wis- 
dom, and  charged  himself  with  teaching  men  govern-  20 
ment  and  establishing  the  voice  of  the  people  as  the 
voice  of  God. 

My  friend,  Dr.  Talmage,  has  told  you  that  the 
typical  American  has  yet  to  come.  Let  me  tell  you 
that  he  has  already  come.  Great  types,  like  valuable  25 
plants,  are  slow  to  flower  and  fruit.  But  from  the 
union  of  these  colonist  Puritans  and  Cavaliers,  from 
the  straightening  of  their  purposes  and  the  crossing  of 
their  blood,  slow  perfecting  through  a  century,  came 
he  who  stands  as  the  first  typical  American,  the  first  30 
who  comprehended  within  himself  all  the  strength  and 
gentleness,  all  the  majesty  and  grace  of  this  republic, 
Abraham  Lincoln.  He  was  the  sum  of  Puritan  and 


2 82  HENRY   W.   GRADY. 

Cavalier;  for  in  his  ardent  nature  were  fused  the  vir- 
tues of  both,  and  in  the  depths  of  his  great  soul  the 
faults  of  both  were  lost.  He  was  greater  than  Puri- 
tan, greater  than  Cavalier,  in  that  he  was  American, 
5  and  that  in  his  homely  form  were  first  gathered  the 
vast  and  thrilling  forces  of  his  ideal  government 
charging  it  with  such  tremendous  meaning,  and  so 
elevating  it  above  human  suffering,  that  martyrdom, 
though  infamously  aimed,  came  as  a  fitting  crown  to 

10  a  life  consecrated  from  the  cradle  to  human  liberty. 
Let  us,  each  cherishing  the  traditions  and  honoring 
his  fathers,  build  with  reverent  hands  to  the  type  of  his 
simple  but  sublime  life,  in  which  all  types  are  honored; 
and  in  our  common  glory  as  Americans  there  will  be 

15  plenty  and  some  to  spare  for  your  forefathers  and  for 
mine. 

In  speaking  to  the  toast  with  which  you  have  hon- 
ored me,  I  accept  the  term,  "  The  New  South,"  as  in 
no  sense  disparaging  to  the  old.  Dear  to  me,  sir,  is 

20  the  home  of  my  childhood,  and  the  traditions  of  my 
people.  I  would  not,  if  I  could,  dim  the  glory  they 
won  in  peace  and  war,  or  by  word  or  deed  take  aught 
from  the  splendor  and  grace  of  their  civilization,  never 
equaled,  and  perhaps  never  to  be  equaled  in  its  chiv- 

25  alric  strength  and  grace.  There  is  a  New  South,  not 
through  protest  against  the  old,  but  because  of  new 
conditions,  new  adjustments,  and,  if  you  please,  new 
ideas  and  aspirations.  It  is  to  this  that  I  address  my- 
self, and  to  the  consideration  of  which  I  hasten,  lest  it 

30  become  the  Old  South  before  I  get  to  it.  Age  does 
not  endow  all  things  with  strength  and  virtue,  nor  are 
all  new  things  to  be  despised.  The  shoemaker  who 
put  over  his  door,  "  John  Smith's  shop,  founded  1760," 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  283 

was  more  than  matched  by  his  young  rival  across  the 
street  who  hung  out  this  sign :  "  Bill  Jones.  Estab- 
lished 1886.  No  old  stock  kept  in  this  shop." 

Dr.  Talmage  has  drawn  for  you,  with  a  master  hand, 
the  picture  of  your  returning  armies.     He  has  told   5 
you  how,  in  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war,  they 
came  back  to  you,  marching  with  proud  and  victorious 
tread,  reading  their  glory  in  a  nation's  eyes!     Will 
you  bear  with  me  while  I  tell  you  of  another  army  that 
sought  its  home  at  the  close  of  the  late  war?    An  10 
army  that  marched  home  in  defeat  and  not  in  victory 
— in  pathos  and  not  in  splendor,  but  in  glory  that 
equaled  yours,  and  to  hearts  as  loving  as  ever  wel- 
comed heroes  home.     Let  me  picture  to  you  the  foot- 
sore Confederate  soldier,  as,  buttoning  up  in  his  faded  15 
gray  jacket  the  parole  which  was  to  bear  testimony  to 
his  children  of  his  fidelity  and  faith,  he  turned  his  face 
southward  from  Appomattox  in  April,  1865.    Think  of 
him  as  ragged,  half-starved,  heavy-hearted,  enfeebled 
by  want  and  wounds ;  having  fought  to  exhaustion,  he  20 
surrenders  his  gun,  wrings  the  hands  of  his  comrades 
in  silence,  and,  lifting  his  tear-stained  and  pallid  face 
for  the  last  time  to  the  graves  that  dot  the  old  Virginia 
hills,  pulls  his  gray  cap  over  his  brow  and  begins  the 
slow  and  painful  journey.     What  does  he  find? — let  25 
me  ask  you  who  went  to  your  homes  eager  to  find,  in 
the  welcome  you  had  justly  earned,  full  payment  for 
four  years'  sacrifice — what  does  he  find  when,  having 
followed  the  battle-stained  cross  against  overwhelm- 
ing odds,  dreading  death  not  half  so  much  as  sur-  30 
render  he  reaches  the  home  he  left  so  prosperous  and 
beautiful?     He   finds   his  house   in    ruins,   his   farm 
devastated,  his  slaves  free,  his  stock  killed,  his  barn 


284  HEKRY   W.   GKADY. 

empty,  his  trade  destroyed,  his  money  worthless;  his 
social  system,  feudal  in  its  magnificence,  swept  away; 
his  people  without  law  or  legal  status;  his  comrades 
slain,  and  the  burdens  of  others  heavy  on  his  shoul- 
5  ders.  Crushed  by  defeat,  his  very  traditions  gone; 
without  money,  credit,  employment,  material  training; 
and  besides  all  this,  confronted  with  the  gravest  prob- 
lem that  ever  met  human  intelligence — the  establish- 
ing of  a  status  for  the  vast  body  of  his  liberated  slaves. 

10  What  does  he  do — this  hero  in  gray,  with  a  heart  of 
gold?  Does  he  sit  down  in  sullenness  and  despair? 
Not  for  a  day.  Surely  God,  who  had  stripped  him  of 
his  prosperity,  inspired  him  in  his  adversity.  As  ruin 
was  never  before  so  overwhelming,  never  was  restora- 

15  tion  swifter.  The  soldier  stepped  from  the  trenches 
into  the  furrow ;  horses  that  had  charged  Federal  guns 
marched  before  the  plow,  and  the  fields  that  ran  red 
with  human  blood  in  April  were  green  with  the  har- 
vest in  June;  women  reared  in  luxury  cut  up  their 

20  dresses  and  made  breeches  for  their  husbands,  and, 
with  a  patience  and  heroism  that  fit  women  always  as 
a  garment,  gave  their  hands  to  work.  There  was  little 
bitterness  in  all  this.  Cheerfulness  and  frankness  pre- 
vailed. "  Bill  Arp  "  struck  the  keynote  when  he  said: 

25  "  Well,  I  killed  as  many  of  them  as  they  did  of  me,  and 
now  1  am  going  to  work."  Or  the  soldier  returning 
home  after  defeat  and  roasting  some  corn  on  the  road- 
side, who  made  the  remark  to  his  comrades :  "  You 
may  leave  the  South  if  you  want  to,  but  I  am  going 

30  to  Sandersville,  kiss  my  wife  and  raise  a  crop,  and  if 
the  Yankees  fool  with  me  any  more  I  will  whip  'em 
again."  I  want  to  say  to  General  Sherman — who  is 
considered  an  able  man  in  our  parts,  though  some 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  285 

people  think  he  is  kind  of  careless  about  fire — that 
from  the  ashes  he  left  us  in  1864  we  have  raised  a 
brave  and  beautiful  city;  that  somehow  or  other  we 
have  caught  the  sunshine  in  the  bricks  and  mortar  of 
our  homes,  and  have  builded  therein  not  one  ignoble  5 
prejudice  or  memory. 

But  in  all  this  what  have  we  accomplished?  What 
is  the  sum  of  our  work?  We  have  found  out  that  in 
the  general  summary  the  free  negro  counts  more  than 
he  did  as  a  slave.  We  have  planted  the  schoolhouse  10 
on  the  hilltop  and  made  it  free  to  white  and  black. 
We  have  sowed  towns  and  cities  in  the  place  of  theo- 
ries, and  put  business  above  politics.  We  have  learned 
that  the  $400,000,000  annually  received  from  our  cot- 
ton crop  will  make  us  rich,  when  the  supplies  that  15 
make  it  are  home- raised.  We  have  reduced  the  com- 
mercial rate  of  interest  from  twenty-four  to  four  per 
cent.,  and  are  floating  four  per  cent,  bonds.  We  have 
learned  that  one  Northern  immigrant  is  worth  fifty  for- 
eigners, and  have  smoothed  the  path  to  the  south-  20 
ward,  wiped  out  the  place  where  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line  used  to  be,  and  hung  out  our  latchstring  to  you 
and  yours. 

We  have  reached  the  point  that  marks  perfect  har- 
mony in  every  household,  when  the  husband  confesses  25 
that  the  pies  which  his  wife  cooks  are  as  good  as  those 
his  mother  used  to  bake;  and  we  admit  that  the  sun 
shines  as  brightly  and  the  moon  as  softly  as  it  did 
"  before  the  war."     We  have  established  thrift  in  the 
city  and  country.     We  have  fallen  in  love  with  work.  30 
We  have  restored  comforts  to  homes  from  which  cul- 
ture   and    elegance    never    departed.     We    have    let 
economy  take  root  and  spread  among  us  as  rank  as 


386  HENRY    W.    GRADY. 

the  crab  grass  which  sprung  from  Sherman's  cavalry 
camps,  until  we  are  ready  to  lay  odds  on  the  Georgia 
Yankee,  as  he  manufactures  relics  of  the  battlefield  in 
a  one-story  shanty  and  squeezes  pure  olive  oil  out  of 
5  his  cotton  seed,  against  any  downeaster  that  ever 
swapped  wooden  nutmegs  for  flannel  sausages  in  the 
valley  of  Vermont. 

Above  all,  we  know  that  we  have  achieved  in  these 
"  piping  times  of  peace,"  a  fuller  independence  for  the 

10  South  than  that  which  our  fathers  sought  to  win  in 
the  forum  by  their  eloquence,  or  compel  on  the  field 
by  their  swords. 

It  is  a  rare  privilege,  sir,  to  have  had  a  part,  however 
humble,  in  this  work.  Never  was  nobler  duty  con- 

15  fided  to  human  hands  than  the  uplifting  and  upbuild- 
ing of  the  prostrate  and  bleeding  South,  misguided, 
perhaps,  but  beautiful  in  her  suffering,  and  honest, 
brave,  and  generous  always.  In  the  record  of  her 
social,  industrial,  and  political  restoration  we  await 

20  with  confidence  the  verdict  of  the  world. 

But  what  of  the  negro?  Have  we  solved  the  prob- 
lem he  presents,  or  progressed  in  honor  and  equity  to- 
ward the  solution?  Let  the  record  speak  to  the  point. 
No  section  shows  a  more  prosperous  laboring  popula- 

25  tion  than  the  negroes  of  the  South ;  none  in  fuller  sym- 
pathy with  the  employing  and  land-owning  class.  He 
shares  our  school  fund,  has  the  fullest  protection  of 
our  laws,  and  the  friendship  of  our  people.  Self- 
interest,  as  well  as  honor,  demands  that  they  should 

30  have  this.  Our  future,  our  very  existence,  depends 
upon  our  working  out  this  problem  in  full  and  exact 
justice.  We  understand  that  when  Lincoln  signed  the 
Emancipation  Proclamation,  your  victory  was  assured; 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  287 

for  he  then  committed  you  to  the  cause  of  human 
liberty,  against  which  the  arms  of  man  cannot  prevail ; 
while  those  of  our  statesmen  who  trusted  to  make 
slavery  the  corner-stone  of  the  Confederacy  doomed 
us  to  defeat  as  far  as  they  could,  committing  us  to  a  5 
cause  that  reason  could  not  defend  or  the  sword  main- 
tain in  the  sight  of  advancing  civilization.  Had  Mr. 
Toombs  said,  which  he  did  not  say,  that  he  would  call 
the  roll  of  his  slaves  at  the  foot  of  Bunker  Hill,  he 
would  have  been  foolish,  for  he  might  have  known  10 
that  whenever  slavery  became  entangled  in  war  it 
must  perish,  and  that  the  chattel  in  human  flesh  ended 
forever  in  New  England  when  your  fathers — not  to  be 
blamed  for  parting  with  what  did  not  pay — sold  their 
slaves  to  our  fathers,  not  to  be  praised  for  knowing  a  15 
paying  thing  when  they  saw  it. 

The  relations  of  the  Southern  people  with  the  negro 
are  close  and  cordial.  We  remember  with  what 
fidelity  for  four  years  he  guarded  our  defenseless 
women  and  children,  whose  husbands  and  fathers  ao 
were  fighting  against  his  freedom.  To  his  credit  be 
it  said  that  whenever  he  struck  a  blow  for  his  own 
liberty  he  fought  in  open  battle,  and  when  at  last  he 
raised  his  black  and  humble  hands  that  the  shackles 
might  be  struck  off,  those  hands  were  innocent  of  25 
wrong  against  his  helpless  charges,  and  worthy  to  be 
taken  in  loving  grasp  by  every  man  who  honors 
loyalty  and  devotion. 

Ruffians  have  maltreated  him,  rascals  have  misled 
him,  philanthropists  established  a  bank  for  him,  but  30 
the  South  with  the  North  protest  against  injustice  to 
this  simple  and  sincere  people.    To  liberty  and  enfran- 
chisement is  as  far  as  the  law  can  carry  the  negro. 


288  HENRY    W.    GRADY. 

The  rest  must  be  left  to  conscience  and  common  sense. 
It  should  be  left  to  those  among  whom  his  lot  is  cast, 
with  whom  he  is  indissolubly  connected,  and  whose 
prosperity  depends  upon  their  possessing  his  intelli- 

5  gent  sympathy  and  confidence.  Faith  has  been  kept 
with  him  in  spite  of  calumnious  assertions  to  the  con- 
trary by  those  who  assume  to  speak  for  us,  or  by  frank 
opponents.  Faith  will  be  kept  with  him  in  the  future, 
if  the  South  holds  her  reason  and  integrity. 

10  But  have  we  kept  faith  with  you?  In  the  fullest 
sense,  yes.  When  Lee  surrendered — I  don't  say 
when  Johnston  surrendered,  because  I  understand  he 
still  alludes  to  the  time  when  he  met  General  Sherman 
last  as  the  time  when  he  "  determined  to  abandon  any 

15  further  prosecution  of  the  struggle  " — when  Lee  sur- 
rendered, I  say,  and  Johnston  quit,  the  South  became, 
and  has  been,  loyal  to  the  Union.  We  fought  hard 
enough  to  know  that  we  were  whipped,  and  in  perfect 
frankness  accepted  as  final  the  arbitrament  of  the 

20  sword  to  which  we  had  appealed.     The  South  found 

her  jewel  in  the  toad's  head  of  defeat.     The  shackles 

that  had  held  her  in  narrow  limitations  fell  forever 

when  the  shackles  of  the  negro  slave  were  broken. 

Under  the  old  regime  the  negroes  were  slaves  to  the 

25  South,  the  South  was  a  slave  to  the  system.  The  old 
plantation,  with  its  simple  police  regulations  and  its 
feudal  habit,  was  the  only  type  possible  under  slavery. 
Thus  was  gathered  in  the  hands  of  a  splendid  and 
chivalric  oligarchy  the  substance  that  should  have 

30  been  diffused  among  the  people,  as  the  rich  blood, 
under  certain  artificial  conditions,  is  gathered  at  the 
heart,  filling  that  with  affluent  rupture,  but  leaving  the 
body  chill  and  colorless. 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  289 

The  old  South  rested  everything  on  slavery  and 
agriculture,  unconscious  that  these  could  neither  give 
nor  maintain  healthy  growth.  The  new  South  pre- 
sents a  perfect  Democracy,  the  oligarchs  leading  in 
the  popular  movement — a  social  system  compact  and  5 
closely  knitted,  less  splendid  on  the  surface  but 
stronger  at  the  core;  a  hundred  farms  for  every  plan- 
tation, fifty  homes  for  every  palace,  and  a  diversified 
industry  that  meets  the  complex  needs  of  this  complex 
age.  10 

The  new  South  is  enamored  of  her  new  work.  Her 
soul  is  stirred  with  the  breath  of  a  new  life.  The  light 
of  a  grander  day  is  falling  fair  on  her  face.  She  is 
thrilling  with  the  consciousness  of  a  growing  power 
and  prosperity.  As  she  stands  upright,  full-statured  15 
and  equal  among  the  people  of  the  earth,  breathing 
the  keen  air  and  looking  out  upon  the  expanding  hori- 
zon, she  understands  that  her  emancipation  came  be- 
cause in  the  inscrutable  wisdom  of  God  her  honest 
purpose  was  crossed  and  her  brave  armies  were  beaten.  20 

This  is  said  in  no  spirit  of  time-serving  or  apology. 
The  South  has  nothing  for  which  to  apologize.  She 
believes  that  the  late  struggle  between  the  States  was 
war  and  not  rebellion,  revolution  and  not  conspiracy, 
and  that  her  convictions  were  as  honest  as  yours.  I  25 
should  be  unjust  to  the  dauntless  spirit  of  the  South 
and  to  my  own  convictions  if  I  did  not  make  this  plain 
in  this  presence.  The  South  has  nothing  to  take  back. 
In  my  native  town  of  Athens  is  a  monument  that 
crowns  its  central  hills — a  plain,  white  shaft.  Deep  30 
cut  into  its  shining  side  is  a  name  dear  to  me  above 
the  names  of  men,  that  of  a  brave  and  simple  man  who 
died  in  a  brave  and  simple  faith.  Not  for  all  the 


290  HENRY   IV.    GRADY. 

glories  of  New  England — from  Plymouth  Rock  all 
the  way — would  I  exchange  the  heritage  he  left  me  in 
his  soldier's  death.  To  the  feet  of  that  shaft  I  shall 
send  my  children's  children  to  reverence  him  who 
5  ennobled  their  name  with  his  heroic  blood.  But,  sir, 
speaking  from  the  shadow  of  that  memory,  which  I 
honor  as  I  do  nothing  else  on  earth,  I  say  that  the 
cause  in  which  he  suffered  and  for  which  he  gave  his 
life  was  adjudged  by  higher  and  fuller  wisdom  than 

10  his  or  mine,  and  I  am  glad  that  the  omniscient  God 
held  the  balance  of  battle  in  His  Almighty  Hand, 
and  that  human  slavery  was  swept  forever  from 
American  soil — the  American  Union  saved  from  the 
wreck  of  war. 

15  This  message,  Mr.  President,  comes  to  you  from 
consecrated  ground.  Every  foot  of  the  soil  about  the 
city  in  which  I  live  is  sacred  as  a  battle-ground  of  the 
republic.  Every  hill  that  invests  it  is  hallowed  to  you 
by  the  blood  of  your  brothers  who  died  for  your  vic- 

20  tory,  and  doubly  hallowed  to  us  by  the  blood  of  those 
who  died  hopeless,  but  undaunted,  in  defeat — sacred 
soil  to  all  of  us,  rich  with  memories  that  make  us  purer 
and  stronger  and  better,  silent  but  stanch  witnesses 
in  its  red  desolation  of  the  matchless  valor  of  Ameri- 

25  can  hearts  and  the  deathless  glory  of  American  arms — 
speaking  an  eloquent  witness,  in  its  white  peace  and 
prosperity,  to  the  indissoluble  union  of  American 
States  and  the  imperishable  brotherhood  of  the  Ameri- 
can people. 

30  Now  what  answer  has  New  England  to  this  mes- 
sage? Will  she  permit  the  prejudice  of  war  to  remain 
in  the  hearts  of  the  conquerors,  when  it  has  died  in 
the  hearts  of  the  conquered?  Will  she  transmit  this 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  2Q1 

prejudice  to  the  next  generation,  that  in  their  hearts, 
which  never  felt  the  generous  ardor  of  conflict,  it  may 
perpetuate  itself?  Will  she  withhold,  save  in  strained 
courtesy,  the  hand  which,  straight  from  his  soldier's 
heart,  Grant  offered  to  Lee  at  Appomattox?  Will  5 
she  make  the  vision  of  a  restored  and  happy  people, 
which  gathered  above  the  couch  of  your  dying  cap- 
tain, filling  his  heart  with  grace,  touching  his  lips  with 
praise  and  glorifying  his  path  to  the  grave;  will  she 
make  this  vision,  on  which  the  last  sigh  of  his  expiring  10 
soul  breathed  a  benediction,  a  cheat  and  a  delusion? 
If  she  does,  the  South,  never  abject  in  asking  for  com- 
radeship, must  accept  with  dignity  its  refusal;  but  if  she 
does  not — if  she  accepts  with  frankness  and  sincerity 
this  message  of  good  will  and  friendship,  then  will  the  15 
prophesy  of  Webster,  delivered  in  this  very  Society 
forty  years  ago,  amid  tremendous  applause,  be  verified 
in  its  fullest  and  final  sense,  when  he  said :  "  Standing 
hand  to  hand  and  clasping  hands,  we  should  remain 
united  as  we  have  for  sixty  years,  citizens  of  the  same  20 
country,  members  of  the  same  government,  united  all, 
united  now,  and  united  forever.  There  have  been 
difficulties,  contentions,  and  controversies,  but  I  tell 
you  that  in  my  judgment 

"  '  Those  opposed  eyes,  25 

Which,  like  the  meteors  of  a  troubled  heaven, 
All  of  one  nature,  of  one  substance  bred, 
Did  lately  meet  in  th'  intestine  shock, 
Shall  now,  in  mutual,  well-beseeming  ranks 
March  all  one  way.' "  30 


PULPIT  ORATORY. 

HENRY    WARD  BEECHER. 
Born  fS/j.     Died  1887. 

THE  SEPULCHER   IN    THE  GARDEN— A  SER 
MON  TO  THE  SORROWING. 

[This  sermon  was  delivered  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  Plymouth  Church, 
Brooklyn,  on  Sunday  morning,  July  I,  1860.  It  is  reprinted  from 
Sermons  by  Henry  Ward  Beecher  (New  York,  1 868),  through  the 
kindness  of  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Harper  and  Brothers.] 

"  Now  in  the  place  where  he  was  crucified  there  was  a  garden,  and 
in  the  garden  a  new  sepulcher,  wherein  was  never  man  yet  laid. 
There  laid  they  Jesus." — John  xix.  41,  42. 

"  And  there  was  Mary  Magdalene,  and  the  other  Mary,  sitting 
over  against  the  sepulcher." — Matt,  xxvii.  61. 

How  strange  a  watch  was  that!  but  how  oftentimes 
repeated  since!  How  strange  a  combination  of  cir- 
cumstances, that  the  cross  should  have  been  lifted  up 
so  near  to  a  garden;  that  the  garden,  of  all  places, 
5  should  have  held,  amid  its  treasures,  such  a  thing  as 
a  sepulcher  hewn  in  a  rock;  that  thus  a  cold  grave 
should  have  been  embosomed  among  flowers,  and 
waited,  for  weeks,  and  months,  and  years,  the  coming 
of  its  sacred  guest!  And  now,  how  striking  the  pic- 
loture!  A  few  words,  and  the  whole  stands  open  to  the 
imagination  as  to  the  very  sight!  The  two  women, 
side  by  side,  silent,  and  yet  knowing  each  other's 

392 


THE  SEPULCHER  IN  THE  GARDEN.  293 

thoughts,  with  one  grief — with  one  yearning — with 
one  suffering!  Home  was  forgotten,  and  nature  itself 
was  unheeded.  The  odorous  vines,  the  generous 
blossoms,  the  world  of  sights  around  them,  were  as  if 
they  were  not.  There  was  the  rock,  and  only  that  to  5 
them.  There  was  neither  daylight,  nor  summer,  nor 
balm,  nor  perfume.  There  were  no  lilies  by  their  feet, 
nor  roses  around  them;  for  though  there  were  ten 
thousand  of  them,  there  was  to  them  only  that  cold, 
gray  sepulchral  rock.  10 

See  what. a  life  theirs  had  been.  First  was  their 
own  birth.  It  is  strange  that  one  should  be  grown  in 
years  before  being  able  to  recognize  his  own  birth; 
and  so  it  is.  We  are  not  born  when  the  body  is — we 
are  born  afterward — sometimes  through  silent  influ-  15 
ences  developing,  and  oftentimes  rudely  born  by  the 
stroke  of  some  overmastering  sorrow,  or  led  forth  by 
some  exceeding  joy.  So  it  was  with  them.  They  had 
lived  years  without  fulfilling  one  year.  They  had 
loved  without  really  loving.  They  had  known  with-  20 
out  really  knowing.  Their  nature  and  full  power  lay 
in  them,  but  as  buds  lie  in  branches,  and  there  had 
been  no  summer  to  bring  them  forth.  Only  when 
Christ  came  did  they  find  themselves,  for  men  never 
can  find  themselves  of  themselves,  but  always  in  the  25 
touch  of  some  other  and  higher  one.  And  only  then, 
when  these  women  saw  a  nature  full  of  strength,  full 
of  purity,  with  a  heart  that  went  like  summer  through 
the  land,  did  they  know  what  it  was  to  live.  Before, 
they  had  been  as  they  are  who,  neither  asleep  nor  30 
awake,  hover  between  dreams  and  realities,  fully  pos- 
sessed by  neither.  But  in  the  full  presence  of  Christ 
these  Marys  received  their  own  life.  They  loved,  and 


294  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

loved  worthily  and  upwardly.     And  then  they  knew 
what  hidden  life  the  soul  possesses. 

Now  life  blossomed  at  every  step  to  them.  There 
can  be  no  barrenness  in  full  summer.  The  very  sand 
5  will  yield  something.  Rocks  will  have  mosses,  and 
every  rift  will  have  its  wind-flower,  and  every  crevice 
a  leaf,  while  from  the  fertile  soil  will  be  reared  a  gor- 
geous troop  of  growths  that  will  carry  their  life  in  ten 
thousand  forms,  but  all  with  praise  to  God.  And  so  it 

10  is  when  the  soul  knows  its  summer.  Love  redeems  its 
weakness,  clothes  its  barrenness,  enriches  its  poverty, 
and  makes  its  very  desert  to  bud  and  blossom  as  the 
rose.  And  these  two  Marys  had  in  the  presence  of 
Christ  waked  into  life.  They  were  not  born  until  he 

15  gave  them  their  life.  They  followed,  therefore,  rever- 
ently, all  his  goings.  They  waited  for  him  when  ab- 
sent as  they  that  wait  for  the  morning.  Now  there 
was  a  future  to  them.  Every  day  increased  their  con- 
scious treasure.  Each  day,  however,  they  knew  that 

20  they  had  come  to  the  end  and  bound  of  their  capacity, 
were  full,  and  could  hold  no  more  love,  nor  joy  of  lov- 
ing. And  yet  e.very  next  day  they  smiled  at  the  bar- 
renness of  the  past,  and  wondered  how  that  could  have 
seemed  enough  which  was  so  much  less  than  the 

25  present. 

The  future  glowed  brighter  and  brighter  to  them. 
Not  that  they  were  not  mortal,  and  did  not  expect 
troubles.  But  storms,  even,  are  radiant  when  the  sun 
shines  upon  them,  and  troubles  upon  an  orb  of  hope 

30  and  love  are  sunlit  clouds,  whose  gorgeous  hues  take 
all  terror  from  the  bolt  and  the  stroke. 

And  so  these  loving  souls,  I  suppose,  followed  Christ, 
and  found  a  daily  heaven.  His  serene  nature;  his 


THE  SEPULCHER  IN  THE  GARDEN.'        *95 

beneficence;  his  all-encompassing  sympathy;  his  dis- 
interestedness, that  gave  everything  but  asked  nothing; 
his  supernal  wisdom;  his  power  over  life;  his  regency 
over  nature;  his  lordship  over  the  winds  that  flew  to  his 
hand  as  a  dove  to  its  nest;  his  mastery  over  darkness  5 
and  death  itself,  calling  back  the  departed  spirit  from 
its  far-off  wandering  to  life  again ;  his  effluent  glory,  as 
he  hung  in  mid-air,  sustained  by  white  clouds,  or  as 
he  walked  the  night-sea,  carpeted  with  darkness;  but, 
above  all,  that  inspiration,  that  heavenly  purity,  that  10 
spiritual  life  that  touched  their  life,  and  aroused  them 
as  never  before  were  they  aroused — in  short,  the  pres- 
ence of  their  God! — all  these  things,  abiding  with 
them,  traveling  from  day  to  day  with  them,  measuring 
out  their  golden  year,  gave  them  their  first  full  knowl-  15 
edge  of  life  as  the  soul  recognizes  it!  And  these  were, 
to  their  fond  hope,  doubtless,  a  perpetual  gift. 

Nothing  seems  ever  to  have  awakened  the  disciples 
to  such  instant  fear,  even  to  chiding  and  rebuke,  as 
the  intimation  of  their  Master  that  he  would  leave  20 
them!  It  seemed  like  a  threat  of  destruction  to  them. 
They  were  the  more  amazed  and  confounded,  there- 
fore, when  the  treacherous  disciple  betrayed  him, 
when  he  yielded  himself  to  authority,  when  injustice 
condemned  him,  smote  him,  tortured  him,  crucified  25 
him.  Life  was  to  them,  now,  no  longer  a  waking 
bliss,  but  the  torment  of  a  wild  and  hideous  dream.  A 
horrible  insanity  it  seemed.  Yet  it  was  constantly  be- 
fore them.  They  followed  him  to  the  city;  they  fol- 
lowed him  out  of  the  city;  they  followed  him  till  the  30 
procession  stopped  upon  the  hill;  they  saw;  they 
heard;  they  agonized.  And  when  the  earthquake 
shook  the  ground,  not  another  thing  did  it  jar  so  heed- 


296  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

less  and  so  griefful  as  those  wondering,  amazed,  and 
disappointed  women.  They  stood  in  a  very  darkness, 
and  their  life  was  like  a  grave.  All  the  past  was  a  gar- 
den, and  this  present  hour  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  it 
5  like  a  sepulcher. 

At  first  grief  was  too  great.  They  were  winter- 
stricken.  The  very  rigor  of  their  sorrow  would  let 
nothing  flow.  But  as  warmth  makes  even  glaciers 
trickle,  and  opens  streams  in  the  ribs  of  frozen  moun- 

10  tains,  so  the  heart  knows  the  full  flow  and  life  of  its 
grief  only  when  it  begins  to  melt  and  pass  away. 

There,  then,  sat  these  watchers.  The  night  came, 
and  the  night  went,  "  and  there  was  Mary  Magdalene, 
and  the  other  Mary,  sitting  over  against  the  sepul- 

15  cher."  What  to  them  was  that  sepulcher?  It  was 
the  end  and  sum  of  life.  It  was  the  evidence  and  fact 
of  vanity  and  sorrow.  It  was  an  exposition  of  their 
infatuation.  It  proved  to  them  the  folly  of  love  and 
the  weakness  of  purity.  The  noblest  experience  of 

20  the  purest  souls  had  ended  in  such  bitter  disappoint- 
ment they  now  knew  that  they  only  are  wise  who 
can  say,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we 
die."  Could  such  a  one  be  stricken  and  die?  Could 
such  a  one  be  gathered  into  the  shapeless  rock? 

25  Could  such  a  light  go  out,  and  such  a  soul  be  over- 
whelmed? What  star,  then,  was  there  for  hope  in 
human  life?  What  was  safe?  What  use  in  love,  in 
trust,  in  honor,  in  purity,  since  the  Head  and  Glory  of 
them  all  was  not  saved  by  them? 

30  This  rebuke  of  life,  of  soul,  of  their  heart-love,  at 
length  drove  them  away.  There  was  no  garden  to 
them  where  such  a  sepulcher  stood.  They  returned; 
but  oh,  what  a  return!  There  was  no  more  life  when 


THE   SEPULCHER  IN   THE   GARDEN.          297 

they  went  away  from  him  that  had  awakened  by  love 
true  life  in  them.  The  night  was  not  half  so  dark  as 
were  their  souls.  In  a  great  affliction  there  is  no  light 
either  in  the  stars  or  in  the  sun.  For  when  the  inner 
light  is  fed  with  fragrant  oil,  there  can  be  no  darkness  5 
though  the  sun  should  go  out;  but  when,  like  a  sacred 
lamp  in  the  temple,  the  inward  light  is  quenched,  there 
is  no  light  outwardly,  though  a  thousand  suns  should 
preside  in  the  heavens.  To  them  life  was  all  dark- 
ness. 10 

And  yet,  while  that  garden  held  the  sepulcher,  and 
the  women  sat  watching  it,  and  saw  only  darkness  and 
desolation,  how  blind  they  were!  How  little,  after  all, 
did  they  know !  When  first  all  was  a  bright  certainty, 
how  little  then  did  they  know!  And  when,  afterward,  15 
all  was  dark  woe,  how  little  yet  did  they  know!  The 
darkness  and  the  light  were  both  alike  to  them,  for 
they  were  ignorant  alike  of  both.  How  little  did  they 
expect  or  su?pect!  Of  all  the  garden,  only  the  rock 
itself  was  a  true  soil,  for  in  it  lay  the  "  root  of  David."  20 
Forth  from  that  unlikely  spot  should  come  a  flower 
whose  blossom  would  restore  Eden  to  the  world;  for 
if  a  garden  saw  man's  fall,  forth  from  the  garden  came 
his  life  again.  But  their  eyes  were  holden  that  they 
should  not  see.  Their  hearts  were  burdened  that  they  25 
should  not  know.  They  saw  only  the  sepulcher,  and 
the  stone  rolled  against  the  door.  They  saw,  they  felt, 
they  despaired! 

And  yet,  against  sij.'ht,  against  sense,  against  hope, 
they  lingered.     If  they  departed,  they  could  not  abide  30 
away;  they  must  needs  oome  again;  for  "  in  the  end  of 
the  Sabbath,  as  it  began  to  dawn  toward  the  first  day 
of  the  week,  came  Mary  Magdalene,  and  the  other 


*9&  HENRY   WARD  BEECH ER. 

Mary,  to  see  the  sepulcher.  And  behold,  there  was  a 
great  earthquake;  for  the  angel  of  the  Lord  descended 
from  heaven,  and  came  and  rolled  back  the  stone  from 
the  door,  and  "  (like  them  that  triumph)  "  sat  upon  it." 
5  But  now  their  sad  musings,  the  utter  despair  of  the 
reason  and  of  the  senses,  the  anxiety,  the  vigilance  of 
the  heart — these  were  the  only  things  that  were  left  to 
them.  And  yet,  as  in  many  cases,  their  hearts  proved 
surer  and  better  guides  than  their  reason  or  their 
10  thoughts ;  for  as  a  root  scents  moisture  in  a  dry  place, 
or  a  plant  even  in  darkness  aims  always  at  the  light, 
so  the  heart  forever  aims  at  hope  and  at  immortality. 
And  it  was  a  woman's  heart  here  that  hung  as  the 
morning  star  of  that  bright  rising  of  the  Sun  of  Right- 
is  eousness.  In  the  end  of  the  Sabbath  Christ  came 
forth,  and  they  were  the  ones  whose  upturned  faces 
took  his  first  light. 

Such  is  this  brief  history ;  and  if  we  were  to  carry  it 

out  in  all  its  analogies,  if  we  were  to  stretch  forth  its 

20  light  so  as  to  encompass  all  those  who  have  had  a  like 

experience  with  these  two  women,  how  wide  would  be 

its  reaches !  how  long  would  be  the  rehearsal ! 

i.  There  is  a  sepulcher  in  every  garden.  We  are 
all  of  us  in  this  life  seeking  for  beauty  and  seeking  for 
25  joy,  following  the  blind  instincts  of  our  nature,  every 
one  of  which  was  made  to  point  up  to  something 
higher  than  that  which  the  present  realizes.  We  are 
often,  almost  without  aim,  without  any  true  guidance, 
seeking  to  plant  this  life  so  that  it  shall  be  to  us  what 
30  a  garden  is.  And  we  seek  out  the  fairest  flowers,  and 
will  have  none  but  the  best  fruits.  Striving  against 
the  noxious  weed,  striving  against  the  stingy  soil, 
striving  against  the  inequalities  of  the  season,  still 


THE  SEPULCHER  IN   THE  GARDEN.          2 99 

these  are  our  hope.  Whatever  may  be  our  way  of  life, 
whatever  may  be  the  instrumentalities  which  we  em- 
ploy, that  which  we  mean  is  Eden.  It  is  this  that  they 
mean  who  seek  the  structures  of  power,  and  follow  the 
leadings  of  ambition.  This  they  mean  who  dig  for  5 
golden  treasures,  not  to  see  the  shining  of  the  gold, 
but  to  use  it  as  a  power  for  fashioning  happiness. 
They  who  build  a  home  and  surround  themselves  with 
all  the  sweet  enjoyments  of  social  life  are  but  planting 
a  garden.  The  scholar  has  his  garden.  The  states-  10 
man,  too,  has  a  fancied  Eden  with  fruit  and  flower. 
The  humble,  and  those  that  stand  high,  are  all  of  them 
seeking  to  clothe  the  barren  experiences  of  this  world 
with  buds  that  blossom,  blossoms  that  shall  bear  fruit. 
No  man  sees  the  sepulcher  among  his  flowers.  There  15 
shall  be  no  lurking  corner  for  the  tempter  overleaping 
the  wall  of  their  happiness,  to  hover  around  their  fair 
paradise!  There  shall  be  nothing  there  that  shall 
represent  time,  and  decay,  and  wickedness,  and  sor- 
row! Man's  uninstructed  idea  of  happiness  in  this  life  20 
is  that  of  a  serene  heaven  without  a  cloud — a  smooth 
earth  without  a  furrow — a  fair  sward  without  a  rock. 
It  is  the  hope  and  expectation  of  men,  the  world  over 
(and  it  makes  no  difference  what  their  civilization  is, 
what  their  culture,  or  what  their  teaching),  that  they  25 
shall  plant  their  garden,  and  have  flowers  without 
thorns,  summer  without  a  winter,  a  garden  without  a 
rock,  a  rock  without  a  sepulcher! 

It  makes  very  little  difference  that  we  see  other 
men's  delusions.     Nay,  we  stand  upon  the  wall  of  our  30 
particular  experience,  as  upon  the  walls  of  a  garden, 
to  moralize  upon  the  follies  of  other  men.     And  when 
they  have  their  hands  pierced  in  plucking  their  best 


300  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

fruits,  when  disappointments  come  to  their  plantings, 
we  wonder  that  they  should  be  so  blind  as  to  expect 
that  this  world  could  have  joys  without  sorrows,  or 
sunshine  without  storms.  We  carry  instructions  to 

5  them,  and  comfort  them  with  the  talk  that  this  life  is 
short  and  full  of  affliction;  we  speak  to  them  of  the 
wreaths  to  be  worn  by  those  who  bear  sorrows;  and 
yet  we  go  as  fondly  and  expectantly  to  our  dream  of 
hope  as  ever.  Ah !  it  was  the  cradle  of  your  neighbor 

10  that  was  left  empty,  and  not  your  own !  That  fair 
blossom  that  was  picked  was  plucked  from  the  next 
household!  You  turn  with  even  more  than  your 
wonted  infatuation  to  your  own  cradle,  to  rejoice  in  its 
security.  It  shall  never  be  desolate! 

15  The  experience  of  every  fresh  mourner  is,  "  I  knew 
that  Death  was  in  the  world,  but  I  never  thought  that 
my  beloved  could  die."  Everyone  that  comes  to  the 
grave  says,  coming,  "  I  never  thought  that  I  should 
bury  my  heart  here."  Though  from  the  beginning  of 

20  the  world  it  hath  been  so ;  though  the  ocean  itself 
would  be  overflowed  if  the  drops  of  sorrow  unexpected 
that  have  flowed  should  be  gathered  together  and 
rolled  into  its  deep  places;  though  the  life  of  man, 
without  an  exception,  has  been  taken  away  in  the 

25  midst  of  his  expectations,  and  dashed  with  sorrow,  yet 
no  man  learns  the  lesson  taught  by  these  facts,  and 
every  man  lays  out  his  paradise  afresh,  and  runs  the 
furrow  of  execution  around  about  it,  and  marks  out  its 
alleys  and  beds,  and  plants  flowers  and  fruits,  and  cul- 

30  tures  them  with  a  love  that  sees  no  change  and  expects 
no  sorrow! 

No  man  means  to  have  anything  in  his  paradise  but 
flowers  and  fruits.     If  there  is  a  rock  in  it,  it  is  only  a 


THE   SEPULCHER   LV   THE   GARDEN.          301 

rock  for  shadow  and  coolness,  or  a  rock  for  decoration 
and  beauty.  No  man  will  have  a  garden  with  a  sepul- 
cher  in  it.  Your  garden  has  no  sepulcher  in  it.  If 
you  are  young  and  fresh,  if  you  are  beginning  life,  you 
will  hear  this  sermon  as  a  poetic  descant,  as  a  tender,  5 
musing  homily.  In  the  opening  out  of  your  expectant 
wealth  and  life  it  is  all  garden-like,  but  no  sepulcher  is 
there!  There  is  no  open  mouth  of  consuming  bank- 
ruptcies; there  are  no  disappointments,  miscalcula- 
tions, and  blunders  that  bring  you  to  the  earth ;  there  10 
is  no  dismaying  of  ambition — no  thwarting  or  turning 
back  of  all-encompassing  desires.  There  is  fresh  dew 
on  the  leaf,  and  rain  at  the  root,  and  in  your  mind  a 
full  expectation  that  your  garden  shall  blossom  as  the 
rose.  15 

And  thus  men  live  as  they  have  lived,  every  man 
making  his  life  a  garden  planted;  every  man  saying, 
"Flowers!  flowers!  flowers!"  and  when  they  come, 
every  man  saying,  "  They  shall  abide;  they  shall  blos- 
som in  ari  endless  summer."  And  we  go  round  and  20 
round  the  secret  place,  the  central  place — we  go  round 
and  round  the  point  where  in  every  man's  experience 
there  is  a  sepulcher — and  we  heed  it  not,  and  will  not 
know  it. 

2.  But,  in  spite  of  all  this  care  and  painstaking,  25 
there  is  no  garden  in  the  world,  let  it  be  as  beautiful  as 
it  may,  that  has  not  in  the  midst  of  it  a  sepulcher. 
When  we  sit  over  against  it  with  untaught  hearts,  we 
find  out  what  we  would  not  permit  ourselves  to  know 
in  all  the  earlier  stages,  though  it  was  there  all  the  30 
time.     Every  one  of  us  is  traveling  right  toward  the 
grave.     I  mean  not  the  extreme  of  life;  I  mean  not 
that  common  truth  that  every  man  is  born  to  die;  I 


302  HENRY   WARD  MEECHER. 

include  that;  but  I  mean  that  every  man  has  a  sphere 
of  life  where  there  is  a  sepulcher  in  which  all  that 
makes  his  life  valuable  to  him  while  he  yet  lives  in 
this  world  is  liable  to  be  buried  and  hidden  from  his 
5  sight.  There  is  no  man  that  is  sure  of  anything  ex- 
cept of  dying  and  living  again.  We  see  on  every  side 
such  revelations,  such  changes,  such  surprises,  such 
unexpected  happenings  and  events,  that  it  is  not  mere 
poetical  moralizing  to  say  that  no  man  is  certain  of 

10  anything  except  death,  to  be  succeeded  by  life. 

A  plow  is  coming  from  the  far  end  of  a  long  field, 
and  a  daisy  stands  nodding,  and  full  of  dew-dimples. 
That  furrow  is  sure  to  strike  the  daisy.  It  casts  its 
shadow  as  gayly,  and  exhales  its  gentle  breath  as 

15  freely,  and  stands  as  simple,  and  radiant,  and  expect- 
ant as  ever;  and  yet  that  crushing  furrow,  which  is 
turning  and  turning  others  in  its  course,  is  drawing 
near, .and  in  a  moment  it  whirls  the  heedless  flower 
with  sudden  reversal  under  the  sod! 

20  And  as  is  the  daisy,  with  no  power  of  thought,  so 
are  ten  thousand  thinking  sentient  flowers  of  life, 
blossoming  in  places  of  peril  and  yet  thinking  that  no 
furrow  of  disaster  is  running  in  toward  them — that  no 
iron  plow  of  trouble  is  about  to  overturn  them.  Some- 

25  times  it  dimly  dawns  upon  us,  when  we  see  other 
men's  mischiefs  and  wrongs,  that  we  are  in  the  same 
category  with  them,  and  that  perhaps  the  storms 
which  have  overtaken  them  will  overtake  us,  also. 
But  it  is  only  for  a  moment,  for  we  are  artful  to  cover 

3o  the  ear  and  not  listen  to  the  voice  that  warns  us  of  our 
danger. 

And  so,  although  every  man's  garden  is  planted 
without  a  sepulcher,  yet  every  man's  garden  has  a 


THE   SEPULCHER  IN   THE   GARDEN.          303 

sepulcher,  and  he  stands  near  it,  and  oftentimes  lays 
his  hand  upon  it,  and  is  utterly  ignorant  of  it.  But 
it  will  open.  No  man  will  ever  walk  through  this  life 
and  reverse  the  experience,  "  Man  that  is  born  of  a 
woman  is  of  few  days,  and  full  of  trouble."  It  comes  5 
to  us  all;  not  to  make  us  sad,  as  we  shall  see  by  and 
by,  but  to  make  us  sober;  not  to  make  us  sorry,  but 
to  make  us  wise;  not  to  make  us  despondent,  but  by  its 
darkness  to  refresh  us,  as  the  night  refreshes  the  day; 
not  to  impoverish  us,  but  to  enrich  us,  as  the  plow  en-  10 
riches  the  field — to  multiply  our  joy,  as  the  seed  is 
multiplied  a  hundredfold  by  planting.  Our  concep- 
tion of  life  is  not  divine,  and  our  thought  of  garden- 
making  is  not  inspired.  Our  earthly  flowers  are 
quickly  planted,  and  they  quickly  bloom,  and  then  15 
they  are  gone;  while  God  would  plant  those  flowers 
which,  by  transplantation,  shall  live  forever. 

3.  When,  then,  our  sorrow  comes,  when  we  are  in 
the  uninstructed  surprise  of  our  trouble,  when  we  first 
discover  this  sepulcher  in  our  garden,  we  sit,  as  these  20 
women  sat,  over  against  the  sepulcher,  seeing,  in  our 
grief,  nothing  else  but  that.  How  strangely  stupid  is 
grief!  How  it  neither  learns  nor  knows,  nor  wishes 
to  learn  nor  know!  Grief  is  like  the  stamping  of  in- 
visible ink.  Great  and  glorious  things  are  written  25 
with  it,  but  they  do  not  come  out  till  they  are  brought 
out.  It  is  not  until  heat  has  been  applied  to  it,  or  until 
some  chemical  substance  has  been  laid  upon  it,  that 
that  which  was  invisible  begins  to  come  forth  in  letter, 
and  sentence,  and  meaning.  In  the  first  instance  we  30 
see  in  life  only  death — we  see  in  change  destruction. 
When  the  sisters  sat  over  against  the  door  of  the 
sepulcher,  did  they  see  the  two  thousand  years  that 


3°4  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

have  passed  triumphing  away?  Did  they  see  any- 
thing but  this:  "  Our  Christ  is  gone  "?  And  yet  your 
Christ  and  my  Christ  came  from  their  loss;  myriad, 
myriad  mourning  hearts  have  had  resurrection  in  the 

5  midst  of  their  grief;  and  yet  the  sorrowful  watchers 
looked  at  the  seed-form  of  this  result  and  saw  nothing. 
What  they  regarded  as  the  end  of  life  was  the  very 
preparation  for  coronation;  for  Christ  was  silent  that 
he  might  live  again  in  tenfold  power.  They  saw  it 

10  not.  They  looked  on  the  rock,  and  it  was  rock. 
They  looked  upon  the  stone  door,  and  it  was  the  stone 
door  that  estopped  all  their  hope  and  expectation. 
They  mourned,  and  wept,  and  went  away,  and  came 
again,  drawn  by  their  hearts,  to  the  sepulcher.  Still  it 

15  was  a  sepulcher,  unprophetic,  voiceless,  lusterless. 

So  with  us.  Every  man  sits  over  against  the  sepul- 
cher in  his  garden,  in  the  first  instance,  and  says,  "  It 
is  grief;  it  is  woe;  it  is  immedicable  trouble.  I  see  no 
benefit  in  it.  I  will  take  no  comfort  from  it."  And 

20  yet,  right  in  our  deepest  and  worst  mishaps,  often  and 
often,  our  Christ  is  lying,  waiting  for  resurrection. 
Where  our  death  seems  to  be,  there  our  Saviour  is. 
Where  the  end  of  hope  is,  there  is  the  brightest  begin- 
ning of  fruition.  Where  the  darkness  is  thickest, 

25  there  the  bright,  beaming  light  that  never  is  to  set  is 
about  to  emerge. 

When  the  whole  experience  is  consummated,  then 
we  find  that  a  garden  is  not  disfigured  by  a  sepulcher. 
Our  joys  are  made  better  if  there  be  a  sorrow  in  the 

30  midst  of  them,  and  our  sorrows  are  made  bright  by 
the  joys  that  God  had  planted  around  about  them. 
The  flowers  may  not  be  pleasing  to  us,  they  may  not 
be  such  as  we  are  fond  of  plucking,  but  they  are  heart- 


THE   SEPULCHER  IN   THE   GARDEN.          30$ 

flowers.  Love,  hope,  faith,  joy,  peace — these  are 
flowers  which  are  planted  around  about  every  grave 
that  is  sunk  in  a  Christian  heart.  For  the  present  it 
is  not  "joyous,  but  grievous;  nevertheless,  afterward 
it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness."  5 

In  so  great  a  congregation  as  this,  where  there  are 
so  many  thousands  that  by  invisible  threads  are  con- 
nected with  this  vital  teaching-point,  sorrow  becomes 
almost  literature,  and  grief  almost  a  lore,  and  we  are 
in  danger  of  walking  over  the  road  of  consolation  so  10 
frequently  that  at  last  it  becomes  to  us  a  road  hard  and 
dusty.  We  are  accustomed  to  take  certain  phrases,  as 
men  take  medicinal  herbs,  and  apply  them  to  bruised, 
and  wounded,  and  suffering  hearts,  until  we  come  to 
have  a  kind  of  ritualistic  formality.  It  is  good,  there-  15 
fore,  that  every  one  of  us,  now  and  then,  should  be 
brought  back  to  the  reality  of  the  living  truth  of  the 
Gospel  by  some  heart-quake — by  some  sorrow — by 
some  suffering.  Flowers  mislead  us,  beguile  us, 
enervate  us,  and  make  us  earthly,  even  if  they  assume  20 
the  most  beautiful  forms  of  loveliness;  while  troubles 
translate  us,  develop  us,  win  us  from  things  that  are 
too  low  to  be  worthy  of  us,  and  bring  us  into  the  pres- 
ence and  under  the  conscious  power  of  God. 

4.  But  it  is  Christ  in  the  sepulcher  that  is  to  give  us  25 
all  our  joy  and  all  our  hope  in  the  midst  of  disappoint- 
ments and  reversals.     Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in 
the    Lord.     Blessed    are    they    that    sleep    in    Jesus. 
Blessed  are  they  that  have  heard  the  Bridegroom's 
voice,  and  have  gone  out  to  meet  him.     Blessed  are  30 
they  that  are  able  to  see  in  their  troubles  such  a  resur- 
rection of  Christ  that,  in  the  joy  they  experience  from 
the  realization  of  the  rising  of  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 


3°6  NENRY   WARD  BEECH ER. 

ness  upon  them,  they  shall  quite  forget  the  troubles 
themselves. 

When  once  the  sisters  that  watched  had  been  per- 
mitted to  gaze  upon  the  risen  Christ,  to  clasp  his  hand, 
5  to  worship  him,  where  was  the  memory  of  their  past 
trouble?  What  was  their  thought  of  the  arrest,  of  the 
shameful  trial — which  was  no  trial — of  the  crucifixion, 
and  death,  and  burial?  These  were  all  gone  from 
their  minds.  As  when  the  morning  comes  we  are  apt 

I0to  forget  the  night  out  of  which  it  came,  so  when  out 
of  trouble  comes  new  happiness,  when  out  of  affliction 
conies  new  joy,  when  out  of  the  crucifixion  of  the 
lower  passions  comes  purification,  we  are  apt  to  forget 
the  process  through  which  this  happiness,  this  joy, 

I5  this  purification  came.  As  there  can  be  no  sepulcher 
which  can  afford  consolation  that  hath  not  a  Christ 
ready  to  be  revealed  in  it,  so  there  can  be  no  sorrow 
from  which  we  can  be  well  delivered  that  hath  not  in 
it  a  Christ  ready  to  be  revealed. 

20  As,  then,  these  Marys,  in  their  very  weakness,  were 
stronger  than  when  they  thought  themselves  strong, 
as  in  the  days  of  their  sorrow  they  were  nearer  joy 
than  when  they  were  joyful,  as  when  their  expecta- 
tions were  cut  off  they  were  nearer  a  glorious  realiza- 

25  tion  than  at  any  other  period  of  their  life,  so,  when  we 
are  weakest  we  may  be  strongest,  when  we  are  most 
cast  down  we  may  be  nearest  the  moment  of  being 
lifted  up,  when  we  are  most  oppressed  we  are  nearest 
deliverance,  when  we  are  most  cut  off  we  are  nearest 

30  being  joined  forever  and  ever  to  him  who  is  life  indeed 
and  joy  indeed. 

My  Christian  friends,  we  are  very  apt,  in  the  regu- 
larity of  teaching,  to  carry  forward  our  faith  of  Christ 


TJTf   SEPULCHER  IN   THE   GARDEN.          307 

to  the  dying  hour,  and  to  think  of  a  Christ  that  can 
rise  upon  us  in  that  mortal  strife  with  healing  in  his 
beams.  We  are  not  apt  to  have  Christ  with  us  every 
day  in  its  vicissitudes  and  disappointments;  we  are 
not  apt  to  take  Christ  into  that  which  belongs  to  uni-  5 
versal  life;  we  are  not  apt  to  take  Christ  into  the 
checks,  and  frets,  and  hindrances,  and  misdirections  of 
this  world,  into  our  bereavements  and  misfortunes. 
We  are  apt  to  regard  Christ  as  remote  from  us,  and  to 
put  him  forward  to  the  time  of  our  final  dismission  10 
from  this  world. 

He  that  knows  how  to  die  in  his  passions  every  day, 
he  that  knows  how  to  die  in  his  pride  from  hour  to 
hour,  he  that  has  Christ  in  each  particular  thwarting 
and  event  of  life,  he  that  knows  how  from  the  varied  15 
experiences  of  life  to  bring  forth  day  by  day  a  Chris- 
tian character,  need  not  fear  the  grand  and  final  ex- 
perience of  earth  to  which  he  is  coming.  There  is  no 
death  to  those  that  know  how  to  die  beforehand. 
Those  who  know  how  to  lay  themselves  upon  Christ,  20 
and  take  the  experiences  of  every-day  life  in  the  faith 
of  Christ;  those  who  see  the  will  of  God  in  everything 
that  abounds,  whether  wounding  or  healing — they 
have  nothing  left  at  the  end  of  life  except  peace,  trans- 
lation, and  the  beginning  of  immortality.  25 

It  is  this  Saviour  that  has  so  sweetened  life,  if  we 
would  but  know  it,  who  is  our  Master;  and  he  stands 
in  our  midst  to-day,  saying  to  us,  "  In  this  world  ye 
shall  have  tribulation."  I  am  sent  to  say  it  to  every- 
one in  this  congregation.  Tribulation  may  not  come  30 
to  you  in  the  way  in  which  you  expect  it,  or  in  the  way 
in  which  you  see  it  developed  in  other  persons.  It 
may  come  unheralded.  But  the  voice  of  the  Lord 


308  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

hath  spoken  to  every  one  of  you,  and  said,  "  In  the 
world  ye  shall  have  tribulation." 

More  than  that.     It  pleased  God  to  comfort  you  be- 
forehand by  the  assurance  that  affliction  is  the  token 

5  of  paternal  love.  Nay,  God  puts  it  so  strongly  that 
one  almost  shrinks:  "  If  ye  be  without  chastisement, 
whereof  all  are  partakers,  then  are  ye  bastards,  and 
not  sons."  Christ  says,  again  and  again,  that  if  you 
belong  to  his  family  you  shall  have  trouble.  Is  it 

10  worth  your  while,  then,  to  go  on  making  your  Eden 
without  a  sepulcher?  Is  it  worth  your  while  to  go  on 
making  your  picture  all  lights  and  no  shadows?  Is 
it  worth  your  while  to  go  on  building  and  rebuilding 
the  structure  of  life  without  considering  that  it  is  a 

15  part  of  human  necessity,  and  a  part  of  God's  plan  of 
mercy,  that  every  man  should  have  trouble,  not  once, 
not  twice,  but  often;  as  he  has  his  food — as  he  has  his 
very  being  itself? 

This  is  one  side  of  Christ's  message  to  every  one  of 

20  you  to-day.  How  many  of  you  have  I  seen  in  your 
troubles!  How  many  of  you  have  I  walked  with  in 
your  hour  of  anguish  for  sin !  I  look  upon  a  congre- 
gation with  one  in  every  six  of  whom,  it  seems  to  me, 
I  have  gone  down  to  the  baptismal  water,  or  sprinkled, 

25  and  walked  with  through  all  the  stages  of  their  heart- 
distress.  For  how  many  of  you  have  I  spoken  words 
of  consolation  at  funerals?  Where  are  the  children, 
where  are  the  brothers  and  sisters,  where  are  the 
parents,  where  are  the  kindred  of  this  church? 

30  Where  are  our  old  friends  and  co-workers?  Where 
are  those  that  were  in  the  height  of  personal  expecta- 
tation  ten  years  ago?  We  have  lived  ten  years  to- 
gether, most  of  us — some  of  us  longer  than  that — and 


THE  SEPVLCHER  IN  THE  GARDEN.          3°9 

have  we  not  tracked  God  at  every  step,  verifying  his 
declaration,  "Ye  shall  have  tribulation"?  And  are 
we  to  look  forward  to  the  time  to  come  with  less  ex- 
pectation of  tribulation?  Look  upon  your  household. 
Who  shall  be  unclothed  next?  I  desire  to  take  this  to  5 
myself.  I  desire  to  look  at  my  plans  and  expectations 
in  the  light  of  this  inquiry.  For  I,  too,  have  made  a 
garden,  and  have  forgotten  to  put  a  sepulcher  in  it. 
I  desire  to  commence  a  new  survey.  Let  me  go  up  to 
that  central  mound  covered  with  flowers,  and  let  me  10 
see  if  underneath  those  flowers  there  is  not  an  opening 
mouth — the  darkness  of  the  grave.  And  if  there  is, 
then  let  me  rejoice,  for  I  am  sure  that  that  is  an  un- 
watered  garden  which  has  no  sepulcher.  May  God 
grant  that  I  shall  have  no  garden  in  which  there  is  no  15 
sepulcher  with  a  Christ  about  to  emerge  from  a  fruitful 
death.  Will  you  look  into  your  gardens — your  money- 
garden,  your  pleasure  garden,  your  love-garden,  your 
household-garden,  your  taste-garden?  All  the  plants 
of  your  various  gardens — will  you  look  at  them,  and  20 
see  if  in  the  midst  of  them  there  is  a  place  for  a  sepul- 
cher? Will  you  see  that  there  is  a  sepulcher  in  your 
gardens?  Ana  will  you  make  that  the  center  of  all 
your  plantings? 

I  am  sent  by  Christ  to  say  to  you  another  thing.  25 
First,  "  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation;  but," 
next,  "  be  of  good  cheer;  I  have  overcome  the  world," 
and  ye  shall  overcome  it  also.     "  Because  I  live,  ye 
shall  live  also."    That  is  the  end  of  trouble.    Now  sor- 
row is  crowned  with  hope.     Now  the  gate  is  thrown  30 
open!     Now  the  angel  sits  upon  the  stone!     Now  the 
emergent  Christ  walks  forth,  light  and  glorious  as  the 
sun  in  the  heavens !     Now  the  lost  is  found !     Now  all 


3»o  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

the  stars  hang  like  gems,  and  jewels,  and  treasures  for 
us!  Now,  since  Christ  says  that  out  of  all  these  experi- 
ences he  shall  bring  forth  life,  even  as  his  own  life  was 
brought  forth  out  of  the  tomb,  what  is  there  that  we 
5  need  trouble  ourselves  about? 

Christian  brethren,  do  you  know  how  to  be  glad, 
and  to  make  others  glad,  in  the  midst  of  your  trouble? 
Do  you  know  how  to  stand  in  the  midst  of  your  losses 
and  disappointments  so  that  men  shall  say,  "  After  all, 

10  it  is  not  troublesome  to  be  afflicted  "?  Do  you  know 
how  to  be  peaceful  in  the  midst  of  deepest  bereave- 
ments? Do  you  know  how  to  seek  Christ  in  the  very 
tomb?  Do  you  know  how  to  employ  the  tomb  as  the 
astronomer  employs  the  lens,  which  in  the  darkness 

\S  reveals  to  him  vast  depths  and  infinite  stretches  of 
created  things  in  the  space  beyond?  Do  you  know 
how  to  look  through  the  grave  and  see  what  there  is 
on  the  other  side — the  glory  and  power  of  God? 
Blessed  are  they  to  whom  Christ  hath  revealed  the 

20  meaning  of  the  sepulcher. 

And  when,  after  a  very  little  time,  we  go  away  from 
our  sorrows  and  our  sepulchral  burying-places,  we 
shall,  as  did  these  faithful  watching  women,  meet  our 
Christ  victorious  from  the  grave,  glorified,  exalted. 

25  And  whatever  we  lose  here  that  is  worth  weeping  for 
we  shall  find  again.  When  man  reaps  there  is  some- 
thing for  the  gleaner's  hands  behind  him.  He  shakes 
out  many  kernels  for  the  soil,  and  drops  many  heads 
of  wheat  for  the  gleaner.  But  when  God  reaps  he  loses 

30  not  one  kernel,  and  drops  not  one  single  heavy  head 
of  grain.  And  whatever  that  is  good  has  been  taken 
from  you— every  straw,  and  every  kernel,  and  every 
head,  shall  be  garnered.  Only  that  will  remain  in 


THE  SEPULCHER  IN   THE  GARDEN.          311 

the  earth  which  you  would  fain  give  to  the  earth,  while 
that  which  the  heart  claims,  and  must  have  if  it  live, 
awaits  you.  Great  are  the  joys  that  are  before  you, 
but  they  do  not  lie  level  with  the  earth.  Great  are  the 
joys  to  which  we  are  to  come;  we  are  traveling  up  to  5 
them. 

Let  us,  then,  to-day,  renew,  in  the  presence  of  our 
Master,  our  consecration  to  Christ,  the  Deliverer.* 
Let  us  accept  him  once  more  as  our  life.  Let  our  life 
be  hid  in  him.  And  when  he  shall  appear,  then  we  10 
also,  at  last,  shall  be  made  known  to  each  other.  We 
shall  see  him  as  he  is,  and  we  shall  be  like  him. 

After  the  blessing  is  pronounced,  we  will  remain, 
Christian  brethren,  a  short  time  at  this  joyful  hour, 
not  to  mourn  over  a  broken  Christ  symbolized — for  15 
we  know  better — but  to  rejoice  that  the  broken  Saviour 
is  now  the  ever-living  Prince,  risen  and  clothed  with 
immortal  victory.     We  meet  around  these  memorials. 
We  take  them  for  a  starting  point.     But  we  may  go 
beyond  them,  and  rest  and  rejoice  in  the  bosom  of  20 
ever-living  love. 

If  there  be  present  any  that  mourn  for  their  sins, 
that  despair  of  help  in  themselves,  that  feel  their  need 
of  Christ,  that  yearn  toward  him,  that  long  for  him, 
and  that  are  willing  to  accept  him,  them  also  I  bid  25 
come  home.  This  is  your  Father's  house,  and  this  is 
your  Father's  table.  If  you  will  be  children  of  Christ, 
come  and  partake  with  us  of  these  emblems.  May 
God  grant  that  every  one  of  us  who  sit  together  in 
these  earthly  places  in  Christ  Jesus  may  have  the  un-  30 
speakable  joy,  by  and  by,  of  sitting  together  in  heav- 
enly places. 

*  The  Lord's  Supper  was  administered  at  the  close  of  the  sermon. 


NOTES. 


CARL   SCHURZ. 

POLITICAL    DISABILITIES. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — Carl  Schurz  was  born  at  Liblar,  near 
Cologne,  Prussia,  March  2,  1829.  He  was  educated  at  the 
gymnasium  of  Cologne,  and  at  the  University  of  Bonn, 
which  he  entered  in  1846.  Concerned  in  the  political 
troubles  of  1848,  and  compelled  to  leave  Bonn,  he  joined 
the  revolutionary  army.  He  took  part  in  the  defense  of 
Rastadt,  and  on  the  surrender  of  that  fortress  fled  to 
Switzerland.  The  next  two  years  he  spent  in  Paris  and 
London,  acting  as  correspondent  to  several  German  news- 
papers and  in  teaching.  In  1852  he  came  to  the  United 
States.  He  resided  in  Philadelphia  for  three  years,  and  then 
settled  in  Watertown,  Wis.  As  a  member  of  the  Republican 
party,  he  took  an  active  interest  in  the  campaigns  of  1856 
and  1860,  and  delivered  speeches  in  both  English  and  Ger- 
man. When  Mr.  Lincoln  became  President,  Mr.  Schurz  was 
sent  as  Minister  to  Spain,  but  he  resigned  in  December,  1861, 
to  enter  the  army.  In  1862  he  was  made  a  brigadier  general 
of  volunteers,  and  the  following  year,  a  major  general  in  the 
same  service.  In  1869  he  was  elected  to  represent  the  State 
of  Missouri  in  the  Senate,  serving  until  1875.  While  in  the 
Senate  he  opposed  many  of  the  principal  measures  of  the 
Grant  administration.  He  was  prominent  in  the  "  Liberal 
Republican  "  movement,  and  in  1872  presided  over  the  con- 
vention which  nominated  Horace  Greeley  for  President.  In 


NOTES. 

1876,  however,  he  supported  the  candidacy  of  General  Hayes, 
and,  in  1877,  he  entered  the  latter's  cabinet  as  Secretary  of 
the  Interior,  holding  office  until  1881.  For  the  next  three 
years,  until  1884,  he  was  editor  of  the  New  York  Even- 
ing Post.  Since  then  he  has  been  engaged  in  literary  work 
in  New  York  City.  In  1892,  on  the  death  of  George  William 
Curtis,  he  was  made  president  of  the  National  Civil  Service 
Reform  Association.  A  volume  of  Mr.  Schurz's  most  impor- 
tant speeches  on  slavery  and  the  Rebellion  was  published  in 
1865.  Since  this  date  his  principal  public  addresses  have 
been  those  in  the  Senate, — on  the  annexation  of  San  Do- 
mingo, the  sales  of  arms,  the  currency,  and  general  amnesty; 
— his  eulogy  on  Charles  Sumner;  his  speeches  in  the  cam- 
paign of  1884,  when  he  supported  Mr.  Cleveland;  and  his 
addresses  on  civil  service  reform. 

II.  The  Structure  of  the  Oration. — In  dealing  with  the  ora- 
tions in  this  volume,  students  are  strongly  recommended  to 
make  briefs  or  outlines  which  will  indicate  at  a  glance  the 
way  in  which  the  ideas  and  arguments  are  marshaled  under 
the  different  divisions.  Such  an  outline  in  the  case  of  the 
first  oration  might  be  as  follows: 


I.  Introduction. 

A.  As  reasons  no  longer  exist  for  taking  no  part  in  the  de- 
bate, and  there  being  no  inducement  left  to  waive  criti- 
cism, the  whole  question  may  be  considered  open. 


II.  Narration. 

A.  I  beg  to  say  that  I  am  in  favor  of  general  amnesty,  and 

that  I  shall  heartily  support  an  amendment  to  the  pres- 
ent bill  striking  out  the  exceptions  to  the  relief. 

B.  In  discussing  this  question  we  must  not  forget  that  we 

have  to  deal  not  only  with  the  past  but  with  the  present 
and  future  interests  of  the  republic. 


POLITICAL  DISABILITIES.  3*5 

III.  Partition. 

A.  It  may  be  assumed  that  those  who  favor  a  continuance  of 

disabilities  do  so  because  of  some  higher  object  of  pub- 
lic usefulness  they  have  in  view. 

B.  All,  however,  are  agreed  that  the  supreme  end  to  be  at- 

tained is  to  secure  to  all  the  States  good  and  honest 
government  and  to  revive  in  all  citizens  love  for  the 
Union. 

C.  But  all  must  also  agree  that  this  end  has  not  yet  been  ac- 

complished. 

1.  Some  of  the   Southern   States   are   in  a  condition 

bordering  upon  anarchy. 

2.  The  objection  that  civil  wars  are  likely  to  produce 

such  results  is  scarcely  valid, 
a.  Had  the  right  policy  been  followed,  the  re- 
cuperative power  of  the  country  would  have 
very  materially  alleviated  the  consequences 
of  the  war. 

D.  The  question  is,  therefore: 

i.  Was  the  policy  we  followed  wise? 

2.*  Can  the  continuance  of  the  system  of  disabilities 
do  any  good  to  make  up  for  the  harm  it  has 
already  wrought  and  is  still  working? 

3.  Is  there  any  practical  advantage  to  be  gained  from 

the  provisions  of  the  present  bill? 

IV.  Discussion. 

A.  The  policy  we  followed  was  not  wise. 

I.  The  enfranchisement  of  the  colored  people  having 
been   gained,   the   problem   was   to   secure   good 
government  for  all. 
o.  Nothing  would  have  been  more  calculated  to 

•  For  the  purpose  of  indicating  the  precise  structure  of  the  argument  the  three 
iuues  are  brought  together  here  at  the  end  of  the  narration.  In  the  speech  itself, 
however,  for  excellent  reasons,  the  issue*  arc  not  so  stated. 


3*6  NOTES. 

remove  discontent  and  to  reconcile  men  to 
the  new  order,  than  the  wise  and  honest 
administration  of  public  affairs. 

I/  But  the  measures  taken  were  those  least  likely  to 
attain  good  government. 

a.  When  public  business  demanded,  more  than 

ordinarily,  the  co-operation  of  all  the  intel- 
ligence and  political  experience  that  could 
be  mustered  in  the  South,  a  large  propor- 
tion of  that  intelligence  and  experience  was 
excluded  from  public  affairs  by  political 
disabilities. 

b.  The  controlling  power  was  put  into  the  hands 

of  negroes,  who  were  ignorant  and  inex- 
perienced and  who  could  not  have  been 
expected  to  manage  the  business  of  public 
administration  with  the  wisdom  and  skill 
required. 

c.  The    traditional    prejudices    of    the    Southern 

people  were  affronted. 

x.  White  men  were  asked  to  recognize 
negroes  in  a  political  status  not 
only  as  high  but  higher  than  their 
own. 

d.  The   objection   that   the   rebels    deserved   all 

this  in  the  way  of  punishment  is  not  the 
question. 

x.  The  question  is,  what  was  the  best 
way  to  secure  the  rights  of  the  col- 
ored people  and  restore  the  har- 
mony of  society? 

y.  The  disabilities  inflamed  the  preju- 
dices which  stood  in  the  way  of  the 
acceptance  of  the  new  order  of 
things  and  increased  the  dangers 
of  the  emancipated  class. 

B.  The  continuance  of  the  system  of  disabilities  can  do  no 
good  to  make  up  for  the  harm  it  has  already  wrought 
and  is  still  working. 


POLITICAL  DISABILITIES.  317 

1.  The  disabilities  protect  no  one  in  his  life,  his  liberty, 

or  his  property. 

2.  We  hear  that  the  disabilities  should  not  be  removed 

because  of  the  Ku  Klux  outrages;  but  this  argu- 
ment is  not  tenable. 

a.  These  outrages  happened  while  the  disabili- 

ties were  in  existence. 

b.  They  serve  to  keep  this  spirit  alive. 

3.  The  disabilities  tended  to  put  the  damper  of  dis- 

couragement on  any  good  intentions  the  South- 
ern whites  might  have  had. 

4.  It  is  said  that  the  system  of  disabilities  should  be 

maintained  to  show  disapprobation  of  the  Rebel- 
lion; but  this  is  absurd. 

a.  This  disapprobation  has  been  expressed  in  a 
much  more  forcible  way  by  conquering  the 
armies  of  the  rebels,  and  by  sweeping  the 
system  of  slavery  out  of  existence. 

5.  It  is  also  said  that  the  law  must  be  vindicated. 

a.  But  since  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  punish 
the  rebels  for  treason,  the  idea  of  vindicat- 
ing the  law  by  the  exclusion  of  a  certain 
number  of  persons  from  eligibility  to  office 
is  ridiculous. 

6.  It  is  also  said  that  rebels  should  not  be  pardoned 

when   other  criminals  are  punished;   but  this  is 
not  in  point. 

a.  History  shows  that  political  crimes  have 
never  been  regarded  in  the  same  light  as 
moral  delinquencies. 

x.  We   see   this   from   the   examples   of 

Germany  and  Austria. 

C.  The  provisions  of  the  present  bill  are  unwise. 
I.  The  exclusions  are  unwise. 

a.  The  exclusion  of  the  men  who  left  Congress 
to  join  the  Rebellion  is  unwise. 

x.  The  exclusion  of  those  of  this  class 
who  were  not  original  conspirators 
is  unwise. 


NOTES. 

o.  These  men  were  in  no  way 
more  responsible  for  the  Re- 
bellion than  other  prominent 
men  in  the  South  who  do  not 
fall  under  the  exception. 
/3.  Granting  it  wise  to  readmit  to 
the  management  of  public  af- 
fairs all  the  intelligence  and 
political  experience  the  South 
has,  we  should  not  exclude  as 
a  class  men  who  may  be  pre- 
sumed to  possess  these  quali- 
ties in  a  higher  degree  than 
the  rest. 

7  There  is  no  more  reason  for 
excluding  these  men  than  for- 
eign ministers  who  left  their 
posts,  or  judges. 

y.  To  exclude  the  original  conspirators 
is  unwise. 

a.  The  exclusion  gives  these  men 
an     importance     which    they 
otherwise  would  not  possess. 
b.  The  exclusion  of  officers  of  the  Army  and 
Navy  who  joined  the  Rebellion  is  unwise. 
x.  The     argument     that     the     turning 
against  the   Government   of  these 
men    who    had    been    educated    at 
public  expense,  was  an  act  of  par- 
ticular ingratitude  and  justifies  the 
exclusion,  is  not  a  strong  one. 
o.  One  of  these  men  has  already 
been  given  an  important  pub- 
lic office. 

/3.  The  conduct  since  the  war  of 
no  other  class  of  men  has 
been  so  unexceptional  as  that 
of  members  of  the  Army  and 
Navy. 


POLITICAL  DISABILITIES.  3*9 

c.  The  exclusion  of  members  of  State  conven- 
tions who  voted  for  ordinances  of  seces- 
sion is  unwise. 

x.  These    men    were    drawn    into    the 
whirl  of  rebellion  just  like  the  rest 
of  the  Southern  people. 
y.  They    are    men    whose    co-operation 
would  be  very  valuable  because  of 
their  local  influence. 
*.  The    objection    that    these    men    are 
more  guilty  than  the   rest  is  not 
sound. 

a.  In  many  cases  they  are  only 

apparently  more  guilty. 
ft.  Amnesty  is  designed  for  those 
who  have  a  certain  degree  of 
guilt — not  for  the  innocent. 

2.  The  requirements  of  the  bill  in  respect  to  the  taking 
of  an  oath  is  unwise. 

a.  History  shows  how  little  political  oaths  are 

worth  in  improving  the  morality  of  a 
people  or  in  securing  the  stability  of  a 
government. 

b.  The  act  should  be  made  as  straightforward 

and  simple  as  possible. 

V.  Conclusion. 

A.  Since  political  disabilities  do  not  protect  anyone  in  his 

life  or  rights,  and  since  our  object  is  to  produce  a  con- 
ciliatory effect  and  to  secure  good  and  honest  govern- 
ment for  the  South,  and  since  the  teaching  of  reason 
and  experience  is  that  the  completest  amnesty  is  the 
best,  this  bill  should  be  passed  and  the  subject  dismissed 
from  our  minds  forever. 

B.  The  Rebellion  has  not  gone  unpunished,  as  some  assert: 

the  South  has  been  subdued;  thousands  of  her  sons  have 
been  killed;  slavery  has  been  abolished.  The  loyal 


320  NOTES. 

people  of  the  North,  it  is  true,  have  also  suffered,  but 
their  suffering  has  appeared  in  a  blaze  of  glory. 

C.  The  measure  before  us  will  not  only  benefit  the  rebels 

but  the  whole  country,  and  especially  the  colored 
people. 

D.  The  statesmanship  of  the  period  is  not  exhausted  by  dec- 

lamation about  the  crime  of  rebellion.  The  American 
people  are  coming  to  realize  that  good  and  honest  gov- 
ernment is  a  much  greater  essential  in  restoring  loyalty 
than  the  useless  degradation  of  certain  classes  of 
people. 

£.  Amnesty  will  not  obscure  the  past.  No  one  wishes  that. 
But  it  will  tend  to  bind  together  in  a  common  feeling 
the  people  of  this  country,  and  to  remedy  the  evils 
which  we  now  deplore. 

III.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  Deliberative  Ora- 
tory.— Some  difficulty  is  found  in  naming  other  examples  to 
illustrate  this  division  of  oratory.  Every  student  will  like,  of 
course,  to  turn  to  the  works  of  Conkling,  Elaine,  and  Gar- 
field,  the  most  prominent  of  the  congressional  speakers  of 
this  epoch;  but  these  men  were  all  skillful  debaters,  rather 
than  great  orators.  Occasional  speeches  from  less  known 
senators  and  representatives  are  just  as  worthy  of  note. 

When  some  modern  speeches  have  been  examined,  the  stu- 
dent will  do  well  to  turn  back  and  compare  with  them  the 
product  of  other  epochs  more  celebrated  than  the  present  for 
deliberative  orators.  He  should  read  at  least  one  of  Sum- 
ner's  slavery  speeches,  and  should  be  familiar  with  such 
efforts  as  Seward's  "State  of  the  Union";  Corwin's  "On 
the  Mexican  War";  Hayne's  "Reply  to  Webster";  Web- 
ster's "  Greek  Revolution  ";  Clay's  "  Emancipation  of  South 
America";  John  Randolph's  "Speech  on  Gregg's  Resolu- 
tion"; and  Ames'  "British  Treaty."  Then,  if  he  has  more 
time,  he  can  read  profitably  some  of  the  more  noted  of  the 
English  parliamentary  orators:  Fox,  Sheridan,  Pitt,  Bright, 
and  Gladstone. 


THE  RIGHT  TO    TRIAL  BY  JURY.  321 

JEREMIAH  S.  BLACK. 

THE    RIGHT    TO    TRIAL    BY    JURY. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — Jeremiah   Sullivan   Black  was  born 
in  Somerset  County,  Pa.,  January  10,  1810.     After  an  educa- 
tion in  the  public  schools  of  his  home  he  studied  law,  and 
was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1831.     Rising  rapidly  he  was  ap- 
pointed, in  1842,  president-judge  of  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas  of  his  judicial  district.     Nine  years  later,  in  1851,  he 
became  chief  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  in  1854  was  re-elected  to  the  same  office,  this  time  for 
fifteen  years.     When  Mr.  Buchanan  became  President,  Judge 
Black  was  appointed  his  Attorney  General.     Later,  in  De- 
cember,  1860,  he  was  made  Secretary  of  State,   succeeding 
General   Cass.     On   the   question   of   secession,   he   differed 
radically    from    Mr.    Buchanan,    believing    that    the    Union 
should  be  preserved  by  force,  if  necessary,  while  Buchanan 
held  that  there  was  no  authority  to  coerce  a  State.     After  he 
retired  from  the  Cabinet  he  was  for  a  short  time  reporter  of 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States;  but  thereafter  he 
kept  out  of  public  life  and  devoted  himself  to  the  practice  of 
the  law.     In  his  later  years  he  was  connected  with  many 
important  cases,  among  them  the  Vanderbilt  will  contest, 
the  McCardle  case,  the  Milliken  case  and  the  McGarrahan 
claim.     He  died  at  York,  Pa.,  August  19,  1883.     Some  of  his 
writings    and    speeches    have    been    collected    by    his    son: 
Essays  and  Speeches  of  Jeremiah  S.  Black  (New  York,  1885); 
but  the  record  is  by  no  means  complete.     The  proceedings 
of  the  Supreme  Court  on  his  death  will  be  found  of  interest; 
also  the  articles  on  his  life  and  services  as  a  jurist  in  the 
Catholic  World,  vol.  xliii.  p.  753,  and  in  Green  Bag,  vol.  ii. 
p.  189. 

II.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  Forensic  Oratory. — 
The  speeches  of  but  few  of  the  leading  advocates  of  the  past 
two  or  three  decades  have  been  collected  in  volumes.     Many 


322  NOTES. 

such  speeches,  too,  because  they  were  inadequately  reported 
have  been  lost  forever.  Of  such  as  remain  and  are  acces- 
sible, these  may  be  named:  J.  S.  Black,  "United  States  vs. 
Blyew  et  al.";  W.  M.  Evarts,  "Impeachment  of  President 
Johnson";  Reverdy  Johnson,  "Military  Commissions"; 
M.  H.  Carpenter,  "  McCardle  Case";  D.  D.  Field,  "  Mc- 
Cardle  Case";  B.  R.  Curtis,  "Defense  of  President  John- 
son ";  D.  W.  Voorhees,  "  Trial  of  John  E.  Cook  ";  James  T. 
Brady,  "  Case  of  the  Savannah  Privateers." 

In  earlier  periods  are,  S.  P.  Chase's  "  Case  of  Vanzandt"; 
W.  H.  Seward's  "Case  of  William  Freeman";  Rufus  Choate's 
"Dalton  Case";  Daniel  Webster's  "Trial  of  Knapp,"  "De- 
fense of  the  Kennistons,"  and  "  Gerard  Will  Case  ";  William 
Pinckney's  "  Case  of  the  Nereide  " ;  William  Wirt's  "  Trial 
of  Aaron  Burr."  No  student  of  forensic  eloquence  can, 
however,  afford  to  be  ignorant  of  the  speeches  of  Lord 
Erskine.  Those  for  Captain  Baillie,  the  Dean  of  St.  Asaph, 
John  Stockdale,  and  Thomas  Hardy,  stand  as  models  for  all 
time. 


WENDELL    PHILLIPS. 

DANIEL     O'CONNELL. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — Wendell  Phillips  was  born  in  Bos- 
ton November  29,  1811.  He  attended  the  Boston  Latin 
School,  was  graduated  in  1831  from  Harvard  College,  and 
after  spending  three  years  at  the  Harvard  Law  School  was 
admitted  to  the  bar  in  1834.  Handsome,  with  charming 
manners,  and  coming  from  a  wealthy  and  influential  family, 
he  gave  no  promise  in  college  of  being  the  future  reformer. 
But  in  1835  when  he  saw  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  the 
leader  of  the  abolition  movement,  dragged  by  a  mob  through 
the  streets  of  Boston,  he  dedicated  his  life  to  the  anti- 
slavery  cause.  Two  years  later,  at  a  meeting  held  in  Fan- 
euil  Hall  to  denounce  the  murderers  of  E.  P.  Lovejoy  at 
Alton,  111.,  he  made  the  first  and  the  most  famous  of  his 


DANIEL   O*  CON  NELL.  323 

speeches.  Thereafter,  the  record  of  these  speeches  was  the 
record  of  his  life.  He  became  the  leading  advocate  on  the 
platform  of  the  doctrine  of  the  abolitionists — the  immediate 
and  unconditional  emancipation  of  the  slaves — and  spoke  and 
lectured  constantly  for  its  promulgation.  When  the  War 
had  freed  the  slaves  he  lent  his  voice  to  many  causes  and 
reforms:  the  rights  of  the  negroes,  the  protection  of  the 
Indians,  prohibition,  the  wrongs  of  Ireland,  the  labor  move- 
ment. In  1870  he  accepted  from  the  Labor  Party  and  from 
the  Prohibitionists  the  nomination  for  Governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts. He  died  February  2,  1884.  He  was  the  greatest 
orator  of  his  time;  a  man  of  impatient  and  often  mistaken 
judgment,  but  of  great  moral  conviction,  and  unswerving  in 
courage  and  in  devotion  to  what  he  believed  to  be  the  right. 
His  speeches  have  been  collected  in  two  volumes:  Speeches, 
Lectures,  and  Addresses  (Boston,  1891).  An  excellent  and  dis- 
criminating biographical  sketch  by  Thomas  Wentworth 
Higginson  is  to  be  found  in  the  Nation,  vol.  xxxviii.  p.  116. 
Other  articles,  dealing  with  his  characteristics  as  an  orator, 
are  in  the  Forum,  vol.  viii.  p.  305;  the  Andover  Review,  vol. 
i.  p.  309;  Every  Saturday,  vol.  x.  p.  378;  and  the  Fortnightly 
Review,  vol.  xiv.  p.  59.  A  melodramatic  and  unjudicial  life 
of  him  has  been  written  for  the  American  Reformers  series 
by  Carlos  Martyn  (New  York,  1890). 

II.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  the  Eulogy. — There 
is  no  lack  in  our  oratory  of  great  eulogies.  Phillips'  "  Tous- 
saint  L'Ouverture,"  "  John  Brown,"  and  "  Abraham  Lin- 
coln"; Curtis'  "Charles  Sumner,"  "Wendell  Phillips,"  and 
"Garfield";  Schurz'  "Charles  Sumner";  Beecher's  "Ser- 
mon on  Lincoln,"  and  "  U.  S.  Grant";  Depew's  "General 
Sherman,"  and  "Chester  A.  Arthur";  General  Devens' 
"  General  Meade,"  and  "  General  Grant";  Lamar's  "  Tribute 
to  Sumner";  Elaine's  "James  A.  Garfield";  and  John  D. 
Long's  "  Daniel  Webster  " —  are  all  notable  orations.  In 
other  periods  we  have,  E.  D.  Baker's  "  Senator  Broderick": 
Winthrop's  "  Death  of  Everett";  Sumner's  "  Scholar,  Jurist, 
Artist,  and  Philanthropist";  Everett's  "Adams  and  Jeffer- 
son," "  Lafayette,"  "  John  Quincy  Adams,"  "  The  Character 


324  NOTES. 

of  Washington,"  and  "Webster";  Choate's  "Webster";  John 
Quincy  Adams'  "  Lafayette  ";  Webster's  "  Adams  and  Jeffer- 
son," and  "  Character  of  Washington";  Wirt's  "Jefferson 
and  Adams";  and  Dr.  Nott's  "  Hamilton." 


CHAUNCEY  M.  DEPEW. 

THE    INAUGURATION     OF     WASHINGTON. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — Chauncey  Mitchell  Depew  was  born 
at  Peekskill,  N.  Y.,  April  23,  1834.  After  graduating  from 
Yale  in  1856,  he  studied  law  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
1858.  Speaking  in  support  of  Lincoln  and  the  Republican 
ticket,  he  took  part  in  the  political  campaign  of  1860.  One 
year  later  he  was  elected,  and  the  following  year  re-elected,  to 
the  State  Assembly.  In  1863  he  was  chosen  Secretary  of 
State  of  New  York,  and  served  two  years.  Shortly  after 
leaving  this  office  he  was  appointed  by  President  Johnson 
Minister  to  Japan,  but  after  holding  the  commission  a  month 
he  resigned  to  devote  himself  to  the  law.  In  1866  he  became 
counsel  for  the  New  York  and  Harlem  Railroad  Company; 
and  in  1869,  at  the  consolidation  of  this  road  with  the  New 
York  Central,  he  was  made  attorney  for  the  united  organi- 
zation. In  1872  he  was  a  candidate  on  the  Liberal  Repub- 
lican ticket  for  Lieutenant  Governor.  In  1874  he  was  made 
a  regent  of  the  State  University.  In  1881,  in  the  contest  to 
elect  a  successor  to  Mr.  Platt  in  the  United  States  Senate, 
although  he  had  received  two-thirds  of  the  entire  vote,  on 
the  assassination  of  President  Garfield,  he  withdrew  that  the 
deadlock  might  be  broken  and  the  State  represented.  In 
1882,  at  the  reorganization  of  the  New  York  Central,  he  was 
made  Vice  President  of  the  company,  and  three  years  later 
he  became  its  President.  His  speeches,  delivered  principally 
at  public  dinners  and  at  the  commemorations  of  important 
events,  covering  a  period  of  thirty  years,  have  been  collected 
in  two  volumes:  Orations  and  After-Dinner  Speeches  (New 
York,  1890),  and  Life,  and  Later  Speeches  (New  York,  1894). 


THE  LEADERSHIP  OF  EDUCATED  MEN.     325 

In  the  last  of  these,  as  the  title  indicates,  is  a  brief  biography. 
Other  sketches  of  his  life  are  to  be  found  in  the  various 
cyclopedias,  and  in  the  Chautauquan,  vol.  xx.  p.  694. 

II.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  Commemorative 
Oratory. — Many  anniversary  orations  will  be  found  in  the 
two  volumes  of  Mr.  Depew's  works.  Others  in  this  period 
are,  Curtis'  "  Major  General  John  Sedgwick,"  "  Burgoyne's 
Surrender,"  "  The  Society  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac," 
and  "Centennial  Celebration  of  Concord  Fight";  Evarts" 
"Centennial  Oration";  Winthrop's  "One  Hundredth  Anni- 
versary of  the  Surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis";  H.  A. 
Brown's  "Oration  at  Valley  Forge";  Devens'  "Battle  of 
Bunker  Hill";  Frederick  Douglass'  "Unveiling  the  Monu- 
ment of  Lincoln";  Greenhalge's  "Battle  of  Chickamauga  "; 
J.  W.  Daniel's  "  Unveiling  the  Figure  of  General  Lee  ";  and 
Garfield's  "  Oration  at  Arlington."  Earlier  are  Lincoln's 
and  Everett's  Gettysburg  addresses;  Seward's  "  Plymouth 
Oration";  Choate's  "Fourth  of  July  Oration";  Everett's 
"  First  Settlement  of  New  England,"  "  First  Battles  of  the 
Revolutionary  War,"  and  "Battle  of  Bunker  Hill";  Pren- 
tiss'  "  Address  before  the  New  England  Society  of  New 
Orleans";  Webster's  Bunker  Hill  orations,  "Plymouth 
Oration,"  and  "  Laying  of  the  Corner-stone  of  the  addition 
to  the  Capitol ";  and  John  Quincy  Adams'  "  Oration  at 
Plymouth." 


GEORGE  WILLIAM   CURTIS. 

THE  LEADERSHIP  OF  EDUCATED  MEN. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — George  William  Curtis  was  born  at 
Providence,  R.  I.,  February  24,  1824.  After  attending  school 
at  Jamaica  Plain,  Mass.,  he  moved  with  his  father  in  1839  to 
New  York  and  entered  a  mercantile  house.  Business  prov- 
ing distasteful,  in  1842  he  became  a  member  of  the  Brook 
Farm  community,  at  West  Roxbury,  Mass.  After  remaining 
there  a  year  and  a  half  he  went  to  Concord,  Mass.,  where  he 


326  NOTES. 

divided  his  time  between  farming  and  the  society  of  Emer- 
son, Hawthorne,  and  other  interesting  people.  In  1846  he 
went  abroad.  He  lived  first  in  Italy  and  Germany  and  after- 
ward traveled  in  Egypt  and  Syria.  In  1850  he  returned  to 
this  country  and  joined  the  editorial  staff  of  the  New  York 
Tribune.  From  1852-57  he  was  associated  with  Putnam's 
Monthly;  in  1853  he  began  his  "  Easy  Chair "  papers  in 
Harper's  Magazine;  and  in  1857  he  became  the  leading  edi- 
torial writer  for  Harper's  Weekly,  then  just  started.  His  con- 
nection with  public  affairs  dates  from  1856,  when,  in  the 
campaign  of  that  year,  he  spoke  for  the  Republican  Presi- 
dential candidates.  In  1860  and  1864  he  was  a  delegate  to 
the  Republican  national  conventions,  and  in  the  latter  year 
was  an  unsuccessful  candidate  for  Congress.  In  1869  he  de- 
clined the  Republican  nomination  for  Secretary  of  State  of 
New  York.  He  also  declined  in  1876,  when  offered  by  Presi- 
dent Hayes,  the  position  of  Minister  to  England.  In  1871 
he  became  identified  with  the  civil  service  as  a  member  of 
the  commission  appointed  to  draw  up  rules  for  its  regulation. 
Subsequently,  in  1881,  when  the  National  Civil  Service  Re- 
form League  was  founded  he  became  its  president.  From  1864 
he  was  a  regent,  and  later  was  made  chancellor  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  the  State  of  New  York.  He  died  August  31,  1892. 
As  a  lecturer  and  lyceum  orator  he  was  very  popular.  Be- 
fore and  during  the  War  he  spoke  on  the  question  of  slavery; 
later  his  addresses  were  chiefly  on  the  subject  of  civil  service 
reform  and  on  occasional  and  scholarly  topics.  His  speeches, 
Orations  and  Addresses  (New  York,  1894)  have  been  edited  in 
three  volumes  by  Charles  Eliot  Norton.  His  life  by  Edward 
Cary  in  the  American  Men  of  Letters  series  (Boston,  1894) 
is  an  interesting  although  not  a  final  book.  An  address  by 
Parke  Godwin,  originally  delivered  before  the  Century 
Association  of  New  York  and  afterward  printed  in  Mr.  God- 
win's Commemorative  Addresses  (New  York,  1895)  is  the 
tribute  of  a  lifelong  friend. 

II.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  Platform  Oratory. — 
Many  platform  orations,  little  inferior  to  the  one  given  here, 


THE  NEW  SOUTH.  327 

will  be  found  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Addresses  of  Mr. 
Curtis.  Many  will  also  be  found  in  the  works  of  Wendell 
Phillips.  Mr.  Depew  has  an  oration  on  the  "  Political  Mis- 
sion of  the  United  States,"  and  one  on  the  "  Liberty  of  the 
Press."  In  the  collection  of  Grady's  speeches  is  one  before 
the  literary  societies  of  the  University  of  Virginia.  Earlier 
orations  of  the  more  formal  type  are  Sumner's  "  True 
Grandeur  of  Nations,"  Choate's  "  Eloquence  of  Revolu- 
tionary Periods,"  and  "  The  Power  of  a  State  Developed  by 
Mental  Culture";  Everett's  "Phi  Beta  Kappa  Oration," 
"  The  Uses  of  Astronomy,"  and  "  Education  Favorable  to 
Liberty,  Morals,  and  Knowledge";  Webster's  "  Lecture  be- 
fore the  Mechanics'  Institute";  and  Story's  "Phi  Beta  Kappa 
Oration." 

HENRY  W.  GRADY. 

THE    NEW    SOUTH. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — Henry  Woodfin  Grady  was  born  at 
Athens,  Ga.,  May  24,  1850.  His  education  consisted  in  a 
course  at  the  University  of  Georgia,  from  which  he  was  gradu- 
ated at  the  age  of  eighteen,  and  in  a  post-graduate  course 
of  two  years  at  the  University  of  Virginia.  On  leaving  col- 
lege he  entered  journalism  as  a  profession.  He  first  edited 
the  Rome  Courier,  and,  for  a  time,  the  Rome  Commercial,  and 
then  moved  in  1871  to  Atlanta  to  take  the  position  of  Georgia 
correspondent  of  the  New  York  Herald.  In  1871  he  also 
bought  an  interest  in  the  Atlanta  Herald,  which  he  ran  with 
varying  success  until  it  was  suspended  in  1876.  Finally,  in 
1880,  he  became  associated  with  the  paper  with  which  his 
name  is  most  identified,  the  Atlanta  Constitution,  and  with 
this,  as  editor  and  part  owner,  he  remained  until  his  death. 
As  an  orator  Mr.  Grady  became  generally  known  first  in 
1886  from  the  speech  printed  in  this  volume.  This  was  fol- 
lowed in  1887  by  his  prohibition  speech  at  Atlanta:  in  1888 
by  his  speech  at  Dallas,  Tex.;  and  in  1889  by  his  oration 
before  the  literary  societies  of  the  University  of  Virginia, 


328  NOTES. 

and  by  his  two  addresses  in  Boston.  He  died  December  23, 
1889.  More  perhaps  than  any  other  man,  he  stood  for  the 
obliteration  of  sectional  prejudices  resulting  from  the  War. 
Two  collections  of  his  works  have  been  published.  The 
better  is  edited  by  Joel  Chandler  Harris:  Henry  W.  Grady, 
His  Life,  Writings,  and  Speeches  (New  York,  1890);  the  other 
is  the  Life  and  Labors  of  Henry  W.  Grady  (Atlanta,  1890).  In 
both  of  these  volumes  some  account  of  Mr.  Grady's  oratory 
is  given.  An  appreciative  tribute  from  his  associate  on  the 
Constitution,  Clark  Howell,  will  be  found  in  the  Chautauquan, 
vol.  xxi.  p.  703;  and  there  is  also  an  article  on  him  in  the 
Arena,  vol.  ii.  p.  9. 

II.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  After-Dinner  Ora- 
tory.— Mr.  Grady  made  two  other  after-dinner  speeches  of 
high  order:  those  which  he  delivered  in  Boston  in  1889. 
George  William  Curtis  spoke  often  at  dinners,  but  not  many 
such  speeches  have  been  included  in  his  works.  In  the 
volumes  of  Mr.  Depew  are  responses  to  toasts  of  many 
kinds.  Several  thoughtful  addresses  have  been  published 
by  Senator  Lodge:  Speeches  (Boston,  1892);  and  other  good 
examples  are  to  be  found  in  ex-Governor  Long's  After- 
Dinner  and  Other  Speeches  (Boston,  1895). 


HENRY  WARD   BEECHER. 

THE    SEPULCHER    IN    THE    GARDEN. 

I.  Biographical  Note. — Henry  Ward  Beecher  was  born  at 
Litchfield,  Conn.,  June  24,  1813.  He  was  graduated  from 
Amherst  College  in  1834  and  then  studied  theology  at  Lane 
Seminary,  Cincinnati,  O.  His  first  church  was  at  Lawrence- 
burg,  Ind.  Thence  he  went  to  Indianapolis,  where  he  re- 
mained eight  years.  In  1847  he  was  called  to  take  charge 
of  Plymouth  Church  in  Brooklyn,  and  as  the  pastor  of  this 
church  served  until  his  death.  Early  in  his  career  he  became 
famous  as  a  pulpit  and  platform  speaker.  He  was  a  leading 


THE  SEPULCHER  IN  THE  GARDEN.          329 

spirit  in  the  abolition  movement.  In  1863  he  went  to  Eng- 
land and  delivered  the  five  addresses,  which,  as  examples  of 
popular  oratory  and  persuasion,  before  hostile  audiences, 
are  unequaled.  For  many  years,  although  he  preached 
regularly  in  his  church,  he  was  in  great  demand  as  a  lecturer, 
and  filled  countless  engagements  over  the  whole  country. 
He  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  New  York  In- 
dependent, and  later  of  the  Christian  Union.  In  1886 
he  made  a  lecture  tour  in  England.  The  following 
year,  March  8,  1887,  he  died.  Mr.  Beecher's  sermons 
were  printed  regularly  after  1859,  and  many  of  them 
have  been  collected  in  volumes.  A  collection  has  also  been 
made,  under  the  title  of  Patriotic  Addresses  (New  York, 
1887),  of  his  principal  political  speeches.  A  number  of 
biographies  of  him  have  been  written.  Suggestive  articles 
on  his  power  as  a  preacher  will  be  found  in  the  Contemporary 
Review,  vol.  xix.  p.  317,  and  in  the  New  Englander,  vol.  xxix. 
p.  421 ;  and  there  is  an  interesting  account  of  his  English  ex- 
periences in  1863,  in  the  Century,  vol.  xv.  p.  240. 

II.  Suggestions  for  the  further  Study  of  Pulpit  Oratory. — The 
name  in  recent  years  that  deserves  most  to  be  compared 
with  Mr.  Beecher's  is  Phillips  Brooks.  The  methods  of  the 
two  men,  were,  however,  very  different,  and  Brooks'  ser- 
mons (which  have  been  collected  in  half  a  dozen  volumes) 
lose  even  more  than  Beecher's  in  the  reading.  Other  men 
who  have  gained  reputations  as  pulpit  speakers  in  this  period, 
and  who  have  printed  sermons,  are,  R.  H.  Storrs,  David 
Swing,  Lyman  Abbott,  Morgan  Dix,  and  T.  De  Witt  Tal- 
mage.  Further  examples  of  pulpit  eloquence,  both  early  and 
modern,  may  be  found  in  Fish's  Pulpit  Eloquence  of  the  Nine- 
tetnth  Century  (New  York,  1874). 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  ORATORS  AND  ORATORY 


TREATISES. 

Adams,  John  Quincy.     Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Oratory. 

2  vols.     Cambridge,  1810. 
Aristotle.     Rhetoric.     Translated    by  J.     E.    C.    Welldon. 

London,  1886. 
Baker,  G.  P.     The  Principles  of  Argumentation.     Boston, 

1895- 

Bautain,  Louis.  The  Art  of  Extempore  Speaking.  New 
York,  1859. 

Beeton's  Complete  Orator.     London  (1881  ?). 

Blair,  Hugh.  Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Belles  Lettres. 
Many  editions. 

Broadus,  J.  A.  The  Preparation  and  Delivery  of  Sermons. 
New  York,  1891. 

Brookings,  W.  du  B.  and  Ringwalt,  R.  C.  Briefs  for 
Debate.  With  an  Introduction  on  the  ' '  Art  of  De- 
bate." New  York,  1896. 

Brougham,  Henry,  Lord.  Rhetorical  and  Literary  Dis- 
sertations. (Works,  vol.  vii.)  London,  1856. 

Bryce,  James.  The  American  Commonwealth.  2  vols. 
New  York,  1895.  vol.  ii.  chap.  civ. 

Campbell,  George.  The  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric.  Many 
editions. 

Carlyle,  Thomas.  "  Stump  Orator "  in  Latter-Day  Pam- 
phlets. I.  No.  V. 

Channing,  Edward  T.  Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Oratory. 
Boston,  1856. 

331 


33 2  BIBLIOGRAPHY, 

Cicero.     On  Oratory  and  Orators.     Translated  or  edited 

by  J.  S.  Watson.     New  York,  1871. 
Coppens,    Charles.      The   Art  of  Oratorical   Composition. 

New  York,  1888. 

Curry,  S.  S.     The  Province  of  Expression.     Boston,  1891. 
Donovan,  J.   W.      Speeches  and  Speech-Making.     Detroit, 

1895- 
Emerson,   R.   W.     "  Eloquence,"    in    Society   and  Solitude, 

and  in  Letters  and  Social  Aims.     Many  editions. 
Fenelon,  Frangois.   Dialogues  concerning  Eloquence.  Trans- 
lated by  William  Stevenson.     Boston,  1810. 
Foster,     J.    Edgar.      The     Art     of     Speaking.      Ipswich, 

(1896?). 
Genung,    John    F.      The  Practical    Elements  of  Rhetoric. 

Boston,  1886.     Chaps,  vii.  viii. 
Higginson,  T.  W.    Hints  on   Writing  and  Speech-Making. 

Boston,  1887. 
Hill,  A.  S.      The  Principles  of  Rhetoric.    New  York,  1895. 

pp.  327-400. 
Holyoake,   G.  J.     Public  Speaking    and   Debate.     London, 

(1895). 
Lawson,    John.      Lectures    Concerning    Oratory.     Dublin, 

1759- 
Longinus.     On  the  Sublime.    Translated  by  H.  L.   Havell. 

London,  1890. 
Maury,  J.  S.     The  Principles  of  Eloquence.     Translated  by 

J.  N.  Lake.     New  York,  1807. 
"  The    Peculiarities    of    Popular     Oratory "    in    Afternoon 

Lectures  on  Literature  and  Art.     Dublin,  1869.    pp. 

183-211. 
Phelps,   Austin.       The    Theory  of  Preaching.      New  York, 

1881. 
Pittenger,   William.      How  to  Become    a    Public  Speaker. 

Philadelphia,  1887. 

.     Oratory  Sacred  and  Secular.     New  York,  1868. 

The  Pulpit  Orator.     Boston,  1804. 

Quintilian.      Institutes    of  Oratory.      Translated    by  J.   S. 

Watson.     2  vols.     London,  1856. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY.  333 

Robinson,  W.  C.     Forensic  Oratory.     Boston,  1893. 

Sears,  Lorenzo.      The    Occasional    Address.      New    York, 

1897. 

Sheppard,  Nathan.     Before  an  Audience.     New  York,  1886. 
Smith,  Wilder.     Extempore  Preaching.     Hartford,  1884. 
Tacitus.      A   Dialogue    Concerning    Oratory.     In    Works. 

2  vols.     London,  1854.    ii.  390-452. 

Theremin,  Francis.     Eloquence  a  Virtue.    Andover,  1854. 
Ward,  John.     A  System  of  Oratory.    2  vols.     London,  1759. 
Whately,  Richard.     Elements  of  Rhetoric.     Many  editions. 

HISTORIES. 

Butler,  Charles.      Reminiscences.      2    vols.     London,    1822. 

i.  128-214. 

Cochrane,    Robert.      Great   Orators,    Statesmen,    and   Di- 
vines.    Edinburgh,  1881. 
Cormenin,  L.    M.      The   Orators  of   France.      New    York, 

1847. 
Hardwicke,     Henry.      History    of   Oratory    and   Orators. 

New  York,  1896. 
Harsha,    David    A.       The    Most     Eminent     Orators      and 

Statesmen    of   Ancient    and   Modern     Times.      New 

York,  1854. 

Jebb,  R.  C.     The  Attic  Orators,  2  vols.    London,  1876. 
Jephson,  Henry.     The  Platform  :  Its  Rise  and  Progress.     2 

vols.     London,  1892. 
Magoon,  E.  L.      Orators    of  the    Revolution.      Cincinnati, 

1847. 

Mathews,  William.     Oratory  and  Orators.    Chicago,  1879. 
Nicoll,  H.  J.     Great  Orators.     Burke,  Fox,  Sheridan,  Pitt. 

Edinburgh,  1880. 
Parker,  E.    G.     The    Golden  Age   of  American    Oratory. 

Boston,  1857. 
Roberts,    W.    C.      The    Leading    Orators    of    Twenty-five 

Campaigns.     New  York,  1884. 
Scott,    H.    W.      Distinguished   American    Lawyers.     New 

York,  1891. 
Sears,  Lorenzo.     The  History  of  Oratory.     Chicago,  1896. 


334  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


COLLECTIONS  OF  SPEECHES. 

Adams,  C.  K.      Representative  British  Orations.      3   vols. 

New  York,  1884. 

American  Oratory.     Philadelphia,  1849. 
Baker,    G.    P.      Specimens    of    Argumentation.      Modern. 

New  York,  1893. 

Bradley,  C.   B.     Orations  and  Arguments.      Boston,  1895. 
Carpenter,  S.  C.     Select  American  Speeches.     Philadelphia, 

1815. 

Clarke,  William.     Political  Orations.     London  (1890). 
Cochrane,   Robert.      The    Treasury   of  British  Eloquence. 

London,  1877. 
Fish,  H.  C.     Pulpit  Eloquence  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

New  York,  1874. 
Goodrich,  Chauncey  A.      Select  British  Eloquence.      New 

York,  1852. 
Hazlitt,  William.     The  Eloquence  of  the  British  Senate.     2 

vols.     Brooklyn,  1810. 
Johnson,  Alexander.     American  Orations.     Re-edited  by  J. 

A.  Woodburn.    4  vols.     New   York,  1896. 
Memorial  Addresses   and  After-Dinner  Speeches  in    The 

Tribune  Monthly.    Vol.  iv.     No.  4.     (April,  1892). 
Moore,   Frank.    American  Eloquence.    2    vols.    New  York, 

1857- 

The  Household  Book  of  Irish  Eloquence.     New  York,  (1870.) 
Saunders,   Frederick.      Our    National    Centennial  Jubilee. 

New  York,  1877. 
Snyder,  William  L.     Great    Speeches  by    Great   Lawyers. 

New  York,  1881. 
Stephens,  H.   Morse.     Orators  of  the  French   Revolution. 

2  vols.     Oxford,  1892. 
Wagner,  Leopold.     Modern    Political  Orations.    New  York, 

1896. 
Whitman,  G.  M.     American  Orators  and  Oratory.    Chicago, 

1884. 
Williston,  E.    B.     Eloquence  of  the  United  States.    5  vols. 

Middletown,  1827. 


AMERICAN     FOREIGN     POLICY 
OUR    PHILIPPINE    PROBLEM 

By  Prof.  HENRY   PARKER   WILLIS 
A   study  of   American   Colonial  Policy.     I2mo,  $1.50  net 

(By  mail,  $1.64) 

A  book  of  vital  interest,  based  on  personal  investiga- 
tion in  the  Philippines  by  a  former  editorial  writer  of  the 
New  York  Evening  Post,  who  was  also  Washington 
correspondent  of  the  New  York  Journal  of  Commerce 
and  Springfield  Republican,  and  is  now  a  professor  in 
Washington  and  Lee  University. 

"Anyone  desiring  to  inform  himself  fully  as  to  the  history,  pol- 
itics, public  questions,  in  short,  everything  dealing  with  the  subject 
of  American  control  of  the  Philippines  from  the  day  Dewey  entered 
Manila  harbor  to  the  present,  will  find  Mr.  Willis's  work  a  most  im- 
portant book.  .  .  .  He  writes  of  the  Filipinos  as  he  found  them,  and 
with  the  knack  of  the  true  investigator,  has  avoided  falling  in  with 
the  political  views  of  any  party  or  faction.  More  valuable  still  is  his 
exposition  of  the  Philippine  question  in  its  bearings  on  American 
life  and  politics.  A  most  exhaustive,  careful,  honest  and  unbiased 
review  of  every  phase  of  the  question." — The  Washington  Post. 

"A  keen,  exhaustive  and  merciless  criticism  of  the  whole  Philip- 
pine experiment.  .  .  .  His  unsparing  analysis  of  all  the  departments 
of  Philippine  government  must  (however)  command  respect  as  able, 
honest  and  sincere  ...  no  other  book  contains  more  solid  truth,  or 
a  greater  section  of  the  truth." — Springfield  Republican. 

AMERICA,  ASIA    AND    THE 
PACIFIC 

By  WOLF  VON  SCHIERBRAND 
Author  of  "  Germany  of  To-day  " 

Considers  America's  relations  to  all  the  countries  affected 
by  the  Panama  Canal,  to  those  on  both  coasts  of  the 
Pacific,  and  to  the  islands,  besides  analyzing  the  strength 
and  weakness  of  our  rivals.  13  maps,  334  pp.  $1.50  net. 
By  mail,  $1.62. 

"A  most  interesting  treatise  .  .  .  haying  an  Important  bearing 
upon  our  future  progress." — Public  Opinion. 

"His  observations  on  the  Panama  Canal  and  the  future  of  the 
Dutch  East  Indies  are  particularly  interesting  and  suggestive." 

— Review  of 'Reviews . 

"An  interesting  .  .  .  survey  of  a  broad  field  .  .  .  contains  a  great 
variety  of  useful  information  .  .  .  especially  valuable  to  American 
exporters." — Outlook. 

Henry     Holt     and     Company 

29  W.  23d  STREET  (v,  '06)  NEW  YORK 


RINGWALT'S  AMERICAN  ORATORY 

Selections,  with  introduction  and  notes,  by  RALPH  C.  RINGWALT,  formerly 
Instructor  in  Columbia  University.  334  pp.  tamo.  $1.00,  net. 

Contains  Schurr's  Central  Amnesty.  Jeremiah  S.  Black's  Trial  By  Jury, 
Phillips's  Daniel  (yConin.ll,  Depew's  Inauguration  of  Washington,  Curlis's 
The  Leadership  of  Educated  Men,  Henry  W.  Grady's  The  New  South,  and 
Beecber's  The  Sepulchre  in  the  Garden. 

Prof.  F.  N.Scott,  University  of  Michigan  :  "  An  extremely  sensible 
book." 

Prof.  D.  L.  Maulsby,  Tufts  College:  "  The  opening  essay  is  the  best 
on  its  subject  that  I  have  seen  of  recent  years.  It  shows  grasp  on  both  the 
early  and  later  literature  of  the  subject,  and  is  thoroughly  alive  to  modern 
conditions." 

Prof.  A.  O.  Newcomer,  Leland  Stanford  University  :  "The  essay 
on  the  theory  of  oratory  is  one  of  the  most  sensible  and  at  the  same  time  stim- 
ulating essays  of  the  kind  1  have  ever  seen." 

Prof.  Ralph  W.  Thomas,  Colgate  Univ  ertHy  :  "It  is  a  work  that 
the  individual  student  should  have  constantly  at  hand. 

ALDEN'S  ART  OF  DEBATE 

By  Dr.  R.  M.  ALDEN,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  xv  -f-  479  pp.  i6mo. 
$1.00,  net. 

Prof.  Wm.  C.  Thayer,  Lehirh  University  :  "  An  excellent  book,  well 
put  together,  fresh  and  up-to-date.  I  shall  use  it,  if  the  opportunity  occurs." 

WAGNER'S  MODERN  POLITICAL  ORATIONS  (BRITISH) 

Edited  by  LEOPOLD  WAGNER.    xv-f-344pp.     izmo.    $1.00,  net. 

A  collection  of  some  of  the  most  notable  examples  of  the  political  oratory  of 
the  present  reign.  Includes  Brougham  on  Negro  Emancipation ;  Fox  and 
Cobden  on  the  Corn  Laws  ;  Bright  on  the  Suspension  of  Habeas  Corpus  Act ; 
Butt  and  Morley  on  Home  Rule  ;  Gladstone  on  the  Beaconsfield  Ministry  ; 
Parnell  on  the  Coercion  Bill ;  and  others  by  Beaconsfield,  Russell,  Randolph 
Churchill,  Chamberlain,  Macaulay,  Bulwer-Lytton,  McCarthy,  etc.,  etc. 

POLITICAL  PAMPHLETS 

By  Burke,  Steele,  Saxby,  Halifax,  Arbuthnot,  Swift,  Bolingbroke,  and 
"Junius."  Edited  by  A.  F.  POLLARD.  Bound  in  one  volume.  Pamph- 
let Library.  lamo.  Cloth,  $1.75,  nit,  special. 

The  Nation:  "The  selections  are  very  well  chosen.  .  .  .  Deserves  well  of 
book-buyers  in  point  of  matter  and  form." 

HENRY   HOLT   &   CO.      2e 

IX,   1900 


PANCOASrS    INTRODUCTION    TO    AMERICAN 
LITERATURE 

By  HENRY  S.  PANCOAST,  author  of  "  An  Introduction  to  Eng. 

Hth  Literature." 
With  study  lists,  chronological  tables,  thirteen  portraits,  and 

full  index,    xii  -f  393  PP-    i6mo.    $1.00. 

The  primary  aim  is  to  help  the  reader  to  approach  certain  typical 
works  in  the  right  spirit,  and  to  understand  and  enjoy  them.  He  is 
led  to  observe  the  origin  and  history  of  the  literature  and  the  forces 
which  have  helped  to  shape  and  develop  it;  he  is  taught  to  regard 
literature  as  a  part  of  national  history,  and  to  relate  it  to  contem- 
poraneous events  and  social  conditions.  He  is  made  to  take  up  the 
works  suggested  for  study  in  their  chronological  sequence,  and  to 
note  their  relations  to  each  other  and  to  their  time. 

In  the  sketches  of  the  few  leading  writers  selected  for  compara- 
tively extended  treatment  the  effort  is  to  avoid  dry  biographical  de- 
tails, and  to  present  each  author  as  a  distinct  living  person.  In  the 
critical  portion  the  object  is  rather  to  stimulate  appreciation  and 
lead  the  student  to  judge  for  himself  than  to  force  opinions  on  him 
in  a  purely  dogmatic  spirit. 

The  Nation  :  "  Quite  the  best  brief  manual  of  its  subject  that  we 
know.  .  .  National  traits  are  well  brought  out  without  neglecting 
organic  connections  with  the  mother  country.  Forces  and  move- 
ments are  as  well  handled  as  personalities,  the  influence  of  writers 
hardly  less  than  their  individuality." 

The  Dial  :  "  We  find  in  the  volume  now  before  us  the  same  well- 
chosen  diction,  sobriety  of  judgment,  and  sense  of  perspective 
that  characterized  its  predecessor.  We  should  say  that  no  better 
book  had  yet  been  produced  for  use  in  our  secondary  schools." 

J.  M.  Hart,  Professor  in  Cornell  University  :  "  Seems  to  me  to  ac- 
complish exactly  what  it  attempts;  it  introduces  the  reader  care- 
fully and  systematically  to  the  subject.  The  several  chapters  are 
well  proportioned,  and  the  tone  of  the  entire  work  is  one  of  kindly 
and  enlightened  sympathy." 

A.  G.  Newcomer,  Professor  in  Leland  Stanford  University:    "  He 

succeeds  in  saying  the  just  and  needful  thing  without  being  tempted 
beyond,  and  students  of  the  work  can  hardly  fail  to  obtain  the  right 
profit  from  our  literature  and  the  right  attitude  toward  it." 

H.  Humphrey  Neill,  Professor  in  Amherst  College:  "Having 
used  Mr.  Pancoast's  book  on  English  'Literature  for  three  years 
with  my  class,  I  know  about  what  to  expect  from  the  present  vol- 
ume, and  am  sure  it  will  fill  the  place  demanded  in  the  teaching  of 
American  Literature  which  his  other  book  so  well  fills  in  the  teach- 
ing of  English  Literature." 

Edwin  M.  Hopkins,  Professor  in  the  University  of  Kansas  :   "It 

seems  to  me  fully  entitled  to  take  rank  with  his  English  Literature 
as  a  text-book,  and  I  shall  at  once  place  it  on  my  list  recommended 
for  high-school  work." 


w-  •**  **••  New  York 

«'ive.,  Chlea«« 


AMERICAN     POLITICAL     HISTORY 

A  POLITICAL    HISTORY  OF   THE 
STATE  OF  NEW  YORK 

By  the  HON.   DsALVA   STANWOOD   ALEXANDER 
2  vols.,  about  575  pp.  each,  8vo.     Probable  price  $2.00  net 

or  $2. 50  net  per  volume 

A  history  of  the  movements  of  political  parties  in  the 
Empire  State  from  1777  to  1861,  and  traces  the  causes  of 
factional  divisions  into  "Bucktails"  and  "Clintonians," 
"  Hunkers"  and  "Barnburners,"  etc.  If  upon  any  special 
feature,  emphasis  has  been  placed  on  the  astute  methods 
and  sources  of  power  by  which  the  brilliant  leaders,  George 
Clinton,  Hamilton,  Burr,  De  Witt  Clinton,  Van  Buren,  Sey- 
mour and  Thurlow  Weed,  each  successively  controlled  the 
p.  litical  destiny  of  the  State. 

A  POLITICAL   HISTORY  OF   THE 
UNITED    STATES 

By   J.    P.   GORDY 

4  vols.     I2mo.     $1.75  net,  per  vol.     (By  mail,  $1.89.) 
VOLUME  I.,   1787-1809 

A  well-rounded  history  of  the  Federal  period. 

"  May  be  read  by  almost  anybody,  with  profit.  Written  in  a  clear 
and  simple  style,  entirely  non-partisan,  and  makes  the  causes  of 
early  party  struggles  much  clearer  than  many  a  more  elaborate 
.account" — Nation. 

{VOLUME  n.,  1809-1828 

Much  attention  is  paid  to  the  financial  aspect  of  the 
War  of  1812,  and  to  the  curiously  similar  attitude  of  the 
North  and  the  South  toward  the  negro  in  those  early  years. 

"Succinct and  striking  biographical  sketches  are  now  and  then 
encountered  .  .  .  This  admirable  work." — Nnu  York  Sun. 

VOLUMES  III.  AND  IV.  (/»  preparation) 

HISTORY   OF    AMERICAN 
POLITICS 

By  ALEXANDER  JOHNSTON  i6mo,  80  cents 

"  The  most  useful  book  alike  for  teachers  and  for  pupils  is  John- 
•ton's  'American  Politics.'— Jokn  Fitkt't  '•'•Civil  Cevtrnmtnt  of  tk* 
Unittd  Stattt." 

Henry     Holt     and     Company 

29  W.  230  STREET  (v.  '06)  NEW  YORK 


TWO    BOOKS     ON    VITAL    QUESTIONS 
FOR    THOUGHTFUL    AMERICANS 

THE  NEGRO  AND   THE  NATION 

By  GEORGE  S.  MERRIAM 

Probably  the  first  complete  history  of  the  negro  in  his 
relation  to  our  politics,  ad  printing  436pp.  $1.75  net. 
By  mail  $1.92. 

The  Rev.  EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE  in  "Lend  a  Hand":  "Sensi- 
ble people  who  wish  to  know,  who  wish  to  form  good  sound  opinions, 
and  especially  those  who  wish  to  take  their  honest  part  in  the  great 
duties  of  the  hour,  will  read  the  book,  will  study  it,  and  will  find  noth- 
ing else  better  worth  reading  and  study." 

"Admirable,  exactly  the  sort  of  book  needed.  .  ..  Enlightened  and 
persuasive  discussion  oi  the  negro  problem  in  its  present  phases  and 
aspects.  Not  a  dry  history.  Human,  dramatic,  interesting,  absorb- 
ing, there  is  philosophy  of  national  and  political  life  back  of  it — a 
philosophy  which  not  only  furnished  interpretation  of  past  events, 
but  offers  guidance  for  the  future.  .  .  .  Impartial  and  informing.  .  .  . 
There  is  much  that  tempts  quotation.  .  .  .  Mr.  Merriam  has  given 
us  an  excellent,  high-minded,  illuminating  book  on  the  problem  of 
the  American  negro." — Chicago  Record- Her  aid. 

"A  deeply  interesting  story.  .  .  .  An  exceedingly  readable  vol- 
ume, especially  valuable  in  its  analyses  of  conditions,  causes,  situa- 
tions and  results;  and  against  his  main  conclusions  no  sane  person 
can  contend." — Boston  transcript. 

STUDIES   IN 
AMERICAN   TRADE-UNIONISM 

J.    H.    HOLLANDER    and  G.    E.    BARNETT    (Editors) 

Twelve  papers  by  graduate  students  and  officers  of 
Johns  Hopkins  University,  the  results  of  original  investiga- 
tions of  representative  Trade  Unions.  There  are  also 
chapters  on  Employers'  Associations,  the  Knights  of 
Labor,  and  the  American  Federation  of  Labor.  (380  pp., 
8vo,  $2.75  net.  By  mail,  $2.98.) 

"A  study  of  trade-unions  in  the  concrete.  Impartial  and  thor- 
ough .  .  .  expertly  written." — New  York  Times  Rtvieiv. 

"Though  confined  to  particular  features  of  particular  trade 
unions,  the  data  dealt  with  are  comprehensive  and  typical  ;  so  that 
the  result  is  a  substantial  contribution  to  our  knowledge  of  trade- 
union  structure  and  functions.  .  .  .  Excellent  studies." 

— Neva  York  Evening  Post. 

"  It  is  doubtful  if  anything  approaching  it  in  breadth  and  co-ordi- 
nation has  yet  found  its  way  into  print.  .  .  .  A  very  useful  book." 

— San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

Henry     Holt     and     Company 

29  W.  230  STREET  (v,  '06)  NEW  YORK 


WOOD'S    HEREDITY    IN 
ROYALTY 

By  FREDERICK   ADAMS   WOOD,  M.D. 
A    Statistical     Study     in     History     and     Psychology 

An  interesting  and  handsome  book,  based  on  a  con- 
sideration of  some  3.300  persons,  presenting  an  interesting 
estimate  of  the  mental  and  moral  status  of  all  modern  royal 
families,  and  illustrated  with  over  one  hundred  portraits. 
(312  pp.,  8vo,  $3.00  net,  by  mail  $3.15-) 

"An  exhaustive  analysis  of  the  characteristics  of  the  members 
of  the  reigning  families  in  Europe  from  the  sixteenth  century  (in  some 
cases  from  the  tenth  century)  downward.  .  .  .  The  choice  of  material 
Is  singularly  fortunate,  and  the  method  of  treatment  as  tar  as  possi- 
ble fair  ana  impersonal.  .  .  .  Solid  and  valuable." — Tht  Nation. 

"A  work  of  the  first  class  in  its  department  of  research.  .  .  . 
Others  have  maintained  the  predominating  influence  of  heredity  on 
character,  but  Dr.  Woods  has  demonstrated  it  by  a  more  rigorous 
scientific  method.  .  .  .  He  takes  up  what  Gallon  avoided,  the  study 
of  modern  royal  families.  .  .  .  These  individuals  .  .  .  make  out  an 
indisputable  case  of  the  superior  potency  of  heredity.  At  the  same 
time  they  correct  some  popular  impressions." — Tkt  Outlook. 

"Interesting  and  valuable.  .  .  .  The  inheritance  of  physical 
traits  is  shown  by  over  one  hundred  portraits  in  a  striking*  way. 
.  .  .  Creates  arguments  for  the  strength  of  heredity  so  forceful  that 
one  hardly  dares  dispute  them." — Tht  World  To-day. 

FOURNIER'S  NAPOLEON  THE 
FIRST 

Translated  by  MARGARET  B.  CORWIN  and  ARTHUR 
D.  BISSELL.  Edited  by  Prof.  E.  G.  BOURNE  of 
Yale.  With  a  full  critical  and  topical  bibliography. 
750  pages,  1 2  mo,  $2.00  net. 

"Excellent  .  .  .  Courtesy  probably  makes  the  editor  place  it  after 

the    warks  of and   .  .  .  there  can    be   no  doubt  as   to  the 

superiority  as  a  history  of  Fournier's  book." — New  York  i'w*. 

"One  of  the  best  of  the  single  volume  biographies  and  its  value 
is  greatly  enhanced  by  the  exhaustive  bibliography  which  is 
appended." — Dial. 

"  This  present  translation  gives  in  one  single,  compact  volume, 
well  bound,  on  good  paper  and  in  clear  tvpe  what  by  competent 
judges  is  deemed,  on  the  whole,  the  best  Napoleonic  biography  ex- 
taut.  .  .  .  This  book  is  both  serviceable  and  admirable  in  every 
,en«e."— Critic. 

Henry      Holt     and     Company 
29  W.  230  STREET  (v,  fo6)  NEW  YORK 


Male's  Dramatists  of  To-day 

Rostand,  Hauptmann,  Sudermann, 
Pinero,  Shaw,  Phillips,  Maeterlinck 

By  PkOF.  EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE,  JR.,  of  Union 
College.    With  gilt  top,  $1.50  net.    (By  mail,  $1.60.) 

An  informal  discussion  of  their  principal  plays  and  of 
the  performances  of  some  of  them.  A  few  of  those  con- 
sidered  are  Man  and  Superman,  Candida,  Cyrano 
de  Bergerac,  L'Aiglon,  The  Sunken  Bell,  Mag  da, 
Ulysses,  Letty,  Iris,  and  Pelleas  and  Melisande.  The 
volume  opens  with  a  paper  "  On  Standards  of  Criti- 
cism," and  concludes  with  "  Our  Idea  of  Tragedy,"  and 
an  appendix  of  all  the  plays  of  each  author,  with  dates 
of  their  first  performance  or  publication. 

Bookman :  "  He  writes  in  a  pleasant,  free-and-easy  way.  .  .  .  He 
accepts  things  chiefly  at  their  face  value,  but  he  describes  them  so  accu- 
rately and  agreeably  that  he  recalls  vividly  to  mind  the  plays  we  have  seen 
and  the  pleasure  we  have  found  in  them. 

New  York  Evening  Post  :  "  It  is  not  often  nowadays  that  a  theatrical 
book  can  be  met  with  so  free  from  gush  and  mere  eulogy,  or  so  weighted 
by  common  sense  ...  an  excellent  chronological  appendix  and  full 
index  .  .  .  uncommonly  useful  for  reference." 

Dial:  "  Noteworthy  example  of  literary  criticism  in  one  of  the  most  in- 
teresting of  literary  fields.  .  .  .  Provides  a  varied  menu  of  the  most 
interesting  character.  .  .  .  Prof.  Hale  establishes  confidential  relations 
with  the  reader  from  the  start.  .  .  .  Very  definite  opinions,  clearly 
reasoned  and  amply  fortified  by  example.  .  .  .  Well  worth  reading  a 
second  time." 

New  York  Tribune  :  "  Both  instructive  and  entertaining." 

Brooklyn  Eagle:  "  A  dramatic  critic  who  is  not  just  '  busting '  himself 
with  Titanic  intellectualities,  but  who  is  a  readable  dramatic  critic.  .  .  . 
Mr.  Hale  is  a  modest  and  sensible,  as  well  as  an  acute  and  sound  critic.  .  .  . 
Most  people  will  be  surprised  and  delighted  with  Mr.  Hale's  simplicity, 
perspicuity,  and  ingenuousness." 

New  York  Dramatic  Mirror:  "Though  one  may  not  always  agree 
with  Mr.  Hale's  opinions,  yet  one  always  finds  that  he  has  something 
interesting  to  say,  and  that  he  says  it  well.  Entertaining  and  generally 
instructive  without  being  pedantic." 

The  Theatre:  "  A  pleasing  lightness  of  touch.  .  .  .  Very  readable 
book." 


Henry       Holt      and      Company 

Publishers  New  York 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  Is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


o 


8197!!' 


Book  Slip-35m-7,'63(D8634s4)4280 


UCLA-CoM«g«  Ubrwy 

PN4111R47m 


L  005  746  628  6 


College 
Library 


PN 


J£  "ffig* '"EgONAJ.  UBRMV  FAC.LI1 


"•    '   »    HI    II    I   II  II   I  I   ||  |  (If      || 

A     001  106202     3 


